


Whisky and Wine

by EvilTevene



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilTevene/pseuds/EvilTevene
Summary: A year ago, Jay (Jane) Matthews parted ways with the Van der Linde gang in an attempt to pursue her own score. Arthur Morgan, struggling to keep together a fraying Van Der Linde gang, finds her again in Valentine. Convincing her to come back home despite her own troubles, the two rekindle a romance that might be the key to everyone's survival or their inevitable downfall. [Dual perspective. AU. Romance. The result of a quarantine addled mind. Infrequent updates -- sorry in advance.]
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 35





	1. VALENTINE

**Author's Note:**

> Because I apparently have nothing better to do and have absolutely no inspiration to write anything else right now, I've decided I'm going to drop this pile of fecal matter onto the internet for no more than my own self-gratification. Love it. Hate it. Whatever. I've been in quarantine for three months doing nothing but playing this game and reading tumblr fanfiction, and I have lost my godforsaken mind.
> 
> Also, Arthur Morgan deserved better.

Valentine. 

It was a quaint town. Enough hustle and bustle to make it feel _busy_ , but unfortunately not enough to make sure a newcomer could go completely unnoticed. 

She got plenty of stares as she went along her way but was hopeful, praying even, that no one recognized her. It was true that she was a wanted woman, but she was optimistic that news of her crimes hadn’t traveled south of the Grizzlies just yet. She should have had enough time to get ahead of that. Hopefully.

She tried not to worry too much since tonight, Jay Matthews was here for one thing and one thing only: liquor. And lots of it. 

These past few months have been rough as hell, and if her good fortune held out, they’d at least not get any rougher. Traveling alone was difficult enough. Traveling alone as a woman? Well, Jay had gone well beyond pushing her luck already. But then, that was more or less the life of an outlaw. Looting. Killing. Robbing. Eventually, you got old, or you got killed. Whichever outcome was worse depended entirely on the opinion of the individual. Whichever outcome was favored by luck was viewed likewise.

Jay sighed. The sun was just kissing the peaks of the Grizzlies goodnight, and something about the sudden change of light transformed the mood of the tired little town along with it, making Valentine almost romantic. The saloon became immediately, abundantly lively as lights began to illuminate the street. A player piano hammered away at some god awful tune she didn't recognize, while a group of jaunty drunks outside sang along almost painfully off-key. Elsewhere, movement began happening in the alleyways between buildings. The gentlemen workers, done with their labor, were taking advantage of the “upstairs girls” who were just now beginning their own labor. Some of these men strutted openly in the streets. Jay supposed they had no wives to go home to. Or didn’t care. Most seemed drunk. Others, eager. No doubt a few were going to wake up in the morning with more than just their pants missing. Jay smiled, shook her head, and continued on towards the saloon.

The piano had started up an even quicker melody, and the men outside were having a bigger problem keeping up. A few seemed to have foregone the music altogether and were now just laughing and sipping, or spilling, their booze. _’Such a waste…’_ Jay thought, but as she moved closer toward the illuminated steps her heart skipped a beat. She recognized one of the men. Or, at least, was pretty sure she did.

A year ago, Jay had parted ways with the Van der Linde gang in an attempt to pursue a rather large score on her own. A dowry scam, of sorts. She’d cooked it up herself. Dutch had been thrilled. Hosea, less so, but when the dollar signs were too high there was little that could dissuade Dutch from the deed.

The split had been intended to be temporary, but when the gig had fallen through and Jay had been forced to flee for her literal life, all of her points of contact to reach Dutch and Hosea had disappeared. It had seemed, she’d heard later through some acquaintances, that not soon after her own failures, Dutch and the gang had had their own blowout in Blackwater. News was that several members of the gang had even been killed or arrested and were now awaiting the gallows. Jay had struggled for months to not think about it. Without being able to find out more, she’d come to the determination that those left had probably been separated, or the gang in its entirety had been dissolved. As such, she’d never bothered to seek help with her own problem. Now, however, seeing this old friend -- this old _flame_ \-- maybe things hadn’t ended up as bad as she’d thought? 

Delicately, Jay tiptoed up the stairs. Her eyes never left the chiseled face and bright bouncing eyes that were more than just a little glazed from the effects of alcohol. He was talking to someone that Jay definitely did _not_ know, and she was fairly certain she’d remembered just about everyone from when she first left. 

Arthur didn’t see her until he practically fell into her, which wasn’t hard considering she was standing right next to him and he was barely standing at all.

“Oops, oopssh,” he slurred, clumsily reaching to steady her despite the fact that Arthur seemed to be the one ready to fall on his face. “Shhrrry, ma’am.” In an attempt to tip his hat, Arthur accidentally knocked Jay’s off instead as he swooped his large hand upwards. She might have been irritated if it weren’t for the surprise that Arthur had immediately identified her as a woman. Jay had hoped the clothes she was wearing would at least make people _assume_ she was male at first glance. “Oh God!” Arthur exclaimed, clearly beside himself now. “Pleesh, forgive me ma’am. Lemme get that.”

Jay threw out a hand to stop the cowboy before he toppled into the nearby water trough. 

“No need, sir. I’ll get it. I’m afraid that if you stooped down you’d never get back up. Then I’d have to carry you home.”

This made Arthur laugh. It was a good, healthy belly laugh that Jay couldn’t help but be affected by.

“You? Carry me? I’d like to sheee you try.”

Smiling, even as she drew her hat out of the mud, Jay met Arthur’s eyes. “I’ve done it once before. Granted, we were practically children then.” 

Jay waited, her eyes still set on Arthur’s, which were now flying over her face in an attempt to place the features. He squinted, leaned forward, and then squinted some more despite the fact that she was perfectly illuminated in the light coming from the nearby saloon window. What must have been recognition dawned on Arthur’s face soon after, because a second later he bellowed her name so loud that several people turned to stare, including the men he’d been singing with mere moments ago.

“Zhhhhay!” Arthur slurred and, drink forgotten, enveloped her in a bear hug. Shit, but did that man forget his own strength at times. Every sore muscle in her back shrieked with agony, but Jay bit her lip and tucked the whimper down. Despite the pain, she couldn’t help but be happy to see Arthur again. 

They’d been an item on and off for several years during their shared time in the gang. Jay had always held a deep affection for Arthur, and she suspected that he did for her as well. But there had also been Mary, and in between all of that, Eliza. Jay had never really been certain where she fit in the equation. Not that she hadn’t had her own history of lovers outside of Arthur. Yet somehow he was always the one her mind went back to when the nights were long, or when another man shared her bed. She wondered if it was the same with him. She hoped so, even though her heart doubted it.

“Where’ve you been girl?” 

“Runnin’,” Jay admitted, though much of her voice was lost in Arthur’s barrel chest. “Same as you from what I hear.”

Arthur let Jay go and held her at half an arm’s length. Apparently he was trying to get a good look at her face as he said, “Runnin’ from who? Who’s chasin’ ya? Who do I gotta kill?”

Jay felt something warm in her chest at the immediate flare of protectiveness Arthur was exhibiting. Maybe some things hadn’t changed that much after all. 

“No one. Yet. But if I don’t get to kill them first, that may change."

This made Arthur laugh again, just a little too loud. He threw an arm around Jay's shoulders and led her into the saloon. He dismissed himself from the company of his fellow inebriates, mumbling something about "catching up" as they went. They barely processed his words or his departure. 

"Nice friends," Jay observed.

"Nah I don't know 'em," Arthur mumbled as he half walked, half dragged himself to the bar while propped on her shoulders. "Just being idiots together. Passes the time."

"You here alone?" Jay bit her lip, unsure she wanted the answer to that question given all she'd heard.

"Tonight? Yeah. But I was here last week with Lenny. Got into some trouble, but folks 'round here don't seem to have too good of a memory."

Lenny. Jay remembered him; had liked him even. He was young and a little green, but he was kind and always fun to talk with. She remembered him and Dutch debating literature often, specifically the works of Evelyn Miller. It had all been a little too pretentious for her blood, but once in a while she and Lenny had shared their own thoughts on popular fiction. He was a well-read young man with a keen mind. Jay was glad to hear he’d made it.

“Been a hell of a time with the gang these days,” Arthur started once they’d found a place to stand at the bar. He’d ordered them a few whiskeys that Jay had downed faster than she’d anticipated. She forgot she’d been here to quench a thirst before running into Arthur. That need was remembered now, and she allowed herself to get her ear talked off as she downed shot after shot. “Jenny died. Both the Calendar boys too. Sean was headed for the gallows but we got him back. Against my better judgement, o’course.” Jay nodded along, listening. “We got this new guy, too. A few months after you left us." Jay winced at that but Arthur didn't seem to notice. "Micah. Dutch says he’s good. I ain’t figured out what for, yet, ’cept maybe for causing more trouble than he’s worth.”

Something in Arthur’s tone changed enough to draw Jay’s full attention away from the liquor. His face, now dark with loathing, matched his voice. This surprised Jay as she’d never really heard Arthur talk negatively about anyone Dutch vouched for. Something must really have been off with this guy.

“He the one you worked with on the Blackwater job?”

Arthur shook his head and began running his thumb up and down his shot glass. “I weren’t on the Blackwater job.”

Now Jay was genuinely shocked. Dutch always took Arthur on the big jobs. He was dependable. Reliable. Able to keep a cool head and get the work done, no matter how dirty. It was why everyone took Arthur just about everywhere. Jay rarely enjoyed a run that didn’t include him, though she suspected that was as much for personal reasons as it was for professional ones.

“Well, where _were_ ya then?” She asked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Working some real estate scam. Didn’t even know shit went down until it was too late to do anything useful.”

Jay blinked and watched him carefully for the next few minutes. He was really sour about this job, Jay could read it in Arthur’s face and the slouch in his shoulders. She wondered if it was because he had been excluded from it, or because so many of their mutual friends had ended up dead because of it. She suspected a lot of the latter and some of the former. Arthur wasn’t the jealous type by any means, but he didn’t like being left out where he knew he could make a difference.

“You think this Micah had something to do with things going wrong?”

Arthur inhaled deeply, downed his shot, then shrugged. “I dunno,” he grumbled. “Just something seems off about ‘im. He ain’t right. Even Bill or Sean you know you can trust to have your back in a fight. Micah? I ain’t so sure he wouldn’t put a bullet in most of us himself if he could.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Those are some pretty serious doubts to have about a man, Arthur. Has anyone brought this up to Dutch?”

“Dutch won’t hear nothin’ bout it.” Even as Arthur said it, Jay could see the anger tightening the muscles of his neck and back. “Just says to have some faith. Well faith ain’t pullin’ Jenny, Mac, or Davey out of the ground. It ain’t gettin’ the Pinkertons off our backs. It ain’t gettin’ Cornwall off our backs neither. It’s been shitshow after shitshow.” He paused, took another shot, then looked pointedly over at Jay. “Runnin’ into you’s been the only good thing to happen to me in months.”

Jay inhaled sharply and took another shot of whiskey. She hoped the sudden intake of alcohol would help her explain away the heat rising in her face should anyone ask.

“You said you was runnin’ too though?” Arthur began again. “What happened with yer job?”

Groaning, Jay rubbed her forehead with both her hands. She didn’t really want to talk about her failure, especially in the wake of absorbing everyone else’s. But she supposed she owed Arthur something. 

“I was recognized,” Jay sighed, ordering another round for each of them. “This job. Dowry scam, right? I con a young and eligible bachelor. _Rich_ bachelor, mind you. Let him know the dowry is on its way but also have him pay an advance on my dear family’s...something. Farm. Small business. An investment, and a gesture of good faith. I forget what it was that I used with him, honestly. Anyway. He’s young and wants to show off his blushing bride to be, so we go to this gala in New York City.” She glanced over at Arthur, suspecting that he was falling asleep in his drink as she talked. The opposite couldn’t have been more true. Arthur stared at her as if enraptured with her every word, a slight upward tilt to one corner of his mouth. It threw her for a moment, but Jay was able to recover quickly enough. “Someone there recognized me though. Apparently, he’d been robbed by a few men and a woman that looked a lot like me out in Reno a year back. He even knew my name. My full name, because that’s what shows on the wanted posters.” Arthur hissed through his teeth. “Naturally my adoring soon to be husband was furious. What was surprising was that he also put a bounty on my head, more for his hurt pride than for anything I may have possibly stolen from him. Which I did.” Jay smiled. “It was a lot.”

Arthur laughed. “And the bounty hunter?”

“One’s still with us.”

“One?”

“He sent four at first. I suspect there will be others eventually."

The laughter that had remained in Arthur’s eyes went out. Something akin to anger took its place. The change was almost as abrupt and surprising as his tone when discussing Micah. “Four?”

“Yep. Each caught up with me. Like I said. Only one’s still with us.”

“What happened with the last one?”

Jay shook her head, not wanting to talk about it anymore. She knew eventually she’d have to explain. The scars on her back, shoulders, and neck were too many to hide forever. She'd have to tell how the man had found her in the night and, through sheer dumb luck, had attempted to slit her throat but failed to do so effectively. How he’d tortured her for hours before that, trying to get information on the rest of the gang they knew she’d been affiliated with before. How she’d knocked him out and found a nearby surgeon vacationing with distant relatives at a nearby farmstead. More dumb luck. They’d sewn her up, given her fresh clothes, and never asked for a dollar in return. 

Jay jumped when Arthur’s hand enveloped her own. Upon turning her gaze to meet his, she saw genuine concern on his face. Maybe some sadness too. Whatever he was piecing together in his mind, she knew that he was sensing at least some pain in her words. Jay was grateful Arthur wasn’t the kind of man to push things when they weren’t ready to be revealed. Instead, he just made his presence known. Right now it was the one thing Jay hadn’t realized she needed. She moved her other hand over to squeeze the top of his, then ordered one final round.

That “final” round ended up being the start to three more rounds and before Jay knew it she was drunker than Arthur. As things lightened up, they shot the shit about the old days. Jay asked about John, and Arthur got strangely stoic about it. She asked after Hosea, the grandfather that she seemed to manage to remain estranged from despite being a member of his outlaw gang for most of her life. They talked about little Jack, and wondered equally if Pearson’s cooking would ever get better.

Eventually they ended up piled against a wall together, laughing about God knew what just as the sun started to peek back up. Jay hadn't a clue where the night went, but she was more surprised at how little she cared. Running into Arthur had been a breath of fresh air. She hadn’t had this much fun in at least a year. Why hadn't she sought him out after all this time? Why had she slept on this reunion for so long?

“You’re drunk!” Jay slurred as Arthur began to sink into her side. Asleep, or just unbalanced, she wasn't sure which.

“And you’re beautiful!” 

Not asleep then. Jay laughed, hiccuped, then laughed again. “You’re _really_ drunk,” she said at last. “You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover.”

“Prolly,” Arthur chortled. “But don’t change what I said none.” Jay laughed again. When Arthur didn’t return it, she peered over at him. He was staring intently at her, bright blue eyes dancing between each of hers. He seemed to be drinking her in with more ferocity than he'd tackled the last bottle of whiskey. “I misshed you.”

The minute those words left Arthur’s lips, Jay knew he meant them, and she realized that she’d missed him too. More than anything, she’d missed Arthur Morgan. Before she could say anything, his lips were pressed against her forehead in a delicate kiss. It was intimate, but not intrusive. It was welcoming too, like stepping through the door of a home she’d been away from for far too long. In that moment, Jay knew she never wanted to leave again, even though she knew she must.

“I missed you too,” she admitted finally, leaning her head into his chest. “I didn’t actually think I’d ever see you again after everything.”

“Glad you did.” Arthur hummed low and put an arm around her shoulders to ease her closer. Jay didn’t fight it.

“Me too.”


	2. THE MORNING AFTER

Jay had been right. Arthur had one hell of a hangover. He couldn't tell if it was morning or dusk when he opened his eyes, only that it was too damn bright and someone was going to pay for it. 

Come to think of it, where was he?

He was definitely in a bed. Not his bed back at camp, but _a_ bed. He was dressed, though he'd thankfully had the good sense to remove his boots before he could have ruined the linens. 

If the noise outside was any indicator, he was still in Valentine. The saloon, then? Had he taken a room there? The more Arthur tried to put it all together, the more his head hurt. The room, wherever it was, was spinning out of control and it took everything he had in him to not fall off the bed despite being flat on his back.

That was when he realized the room was empty. No nameless girl. No Jay. The last part was a relief, only in that he would not have wanted their first night together after so many years to have been while they were both dead drunk. It did make him wonder if the entire night had only occurred in his liquor laden brain. It wouldn't be the first case of mistaken identity he'd had while blackout drunk, but damn if this wouldn't hurt if it were the case now.

Grunting, Arthur forced himself to an upright position. This was followed promptly by regret and a little bit of bile. Thankfully someone had seen fit to leave a spittoon next to the bed. Arthur regurgitated an ample amount of his stomach before dragging himself back onto the bed and lying face down. He wished the room were cooler. Maybe he could have ice brought up. Eventually, he began to wonder if jumping from the second story window would grant him the reprieve of death when a knock rose at the door.

Arthur grumbled something. Even he didn't know what he had tried to say, but he hoped it sounded enough like "go away" to work. To his horror, the door swung wide open instead. When he looked over, Jay was standing in the doorway looking prettier than anything he'd ever seen in his life.

"Morning, sunshine!" she drawled. 

Jay was dressed in the clothes she'd had on last night, but was now freshly bathed. Her sand-colored hair was wrapped in a tight braid that danced over her right shoulder when she walked. Her hat was tucked beneath her arm, held tight by gloved hands. Arthur had not noticed before that Jay was dressed in men's fashion, but the clothes were still tailored to fit her physique. It looked _damn_ good on her.

If anyone would have ever asked Arthur, he'd say Jay was half her grandfather and half an enigma. She'd inherited Hosea's hair color (though it had long since changed to white on him), his cleft chin, his wheezing laugh, and the judgemental angle of his eyebrows. Everything else was gifted to her by a mother Arthur had never met and had died long before he'd known Jay existed. However she’d come to them was a story Arthur had never heard, save that one day Dutch and Hosea had returned to camp with her in tow. They’d introduced Arthur to her, all knobby knees, dirty face, and hardened eyes, and said she'd be with the gang until Hosea could send her somewhere safe. Arthur was to take care of her like she was his own sister. 

The day of sending her away had never come. 

Oddly, Jay and Hosea weren't terribly close despite her having been with them some twenty years (nearly as long as Arthur). Arthur never knew why that was, but had assumed it wasn't his place to ask. 

"The hells got you so cheery?" Arthur muttered, sounding angrier than he really was. "How are you not swimming in your own puke?"

"Oh, I was earlier," Jay said with a lilt to her voice that didn’t seem appropriate for the topic she was discussing. "And I feel about as good as you look right now."

"I always look like this."

"You don't. You look like a horse ran you over then came back to shit down your throat."

Arthur couldn't help but grin. "Explains the taste in my mouth."

"Might do." Jay was quiet for a moment. "Are you going to be okay here?"

"Mmmm." Arthur hummed, then looked over where Jay stood. "Why? You going somewhere?"

"I have to keep moving."

Arthur frowned. "Yer not coming back?"

Jay shook her head, her expression pained. "It's too dangerous. If they find me, they find you all too."

"Yer man ain't lookin' for _us_."

"He ain’t my man!" Jay snapped, then looked sorry for it. "It's still better to stay on the move."

"Alone?" Arthur’s heart started in a sudden panic. He'd truly assumed Jay was coming home, not just passing through. 

Jay smiled with a quizzically raised eyebrow. "Yes? Why? You volunteering to come with? Bet Dutch would _love_ that."

He was surprised to realize that he would follow her if he could, but she was right. No one was beholden to the gang, of course, but Arthur carried too much responsibility to just up and leave. It was also his home. But Jay had always been a part of that home, and even he couldn't deny that the thought of her coming back made it feel like they might have an actual home again, and not just a place he had to go to at the end of the day. If he were a dreaming man, he might have lingered on that feeling more. 

"At least stop by. Say hello to everyone. I'm sure they'd love to see you. Hosea would, I know." Jay made a sound somewhere in the back of her throat. "He's been worried." Jay was shuffling around out of sight now. Arthur cleared his throat and sat up to watch her. "There a reason you don't want to come back?"

"I told you why."

"It ain’t anything more than that?" A pause. A sigh. It was enough to tell Arthur the answer was yes, and that she wasn't going to elaborate on that anytime soon. "Just a day, Jane. That's all." He used her full name, something almost nobody did anymore. 

The silence stretched for a few moments between them. Jay was clearly weighing the pros and cons in her head. Arthur waited; watching. Hopeful that she’d come back with him. Hopeful that, with enough encouragement from the others, she'd stay.

"Fine," Jay acquiesced. "But only for a day."

Arthur smiled. Hopefully, a day would be all it took.


	3. HORSESHOE OVERLOOK

Jack was the first to spot them coming around the bend entrance into camp. 

His excited shouts were more than enough to alert all, waking nearly everyone prematurely at an almost ungodly hour. Blissfully unaware of the raucous he had created, however, Jack bolted all the way up to Jay's mare, laughing and shouting in an uncharacteristic show of excitement, before she could fully dismount.

"Jack?" she yelled, feigning surprise. "Is that you? You're so big!"

He leapt into Jay's arms, all whirling limbs and endless questions about where she’d been. Jay caught him with some surprise, proceeding to walk and talk him back while Arthur tethered their horses. With all of the commotion, it didn't take long for those who had been rudely awakened to either bitterly rise for the day or return to their slumber.

Mary Beth, Tilly, Abigail and Susan had already been awake and as such slowly surrounded Jay to greet and catch up with her. Dutch, Molly, and Hosea were lazily pulling themselves from sleep at the commotion while Charles lingered off to the side watching everyone as was his custom. Arthur noted upon a quick glance around the glade that Micah appeared to still be absent, and sighed quietly in relief.

After settling the horses and taking stock of everyone, Arthur approached the gaggle of women while trying to keep his strut to a minimum. With each step he felt the smile on his face widen to the point that he was certain he looked entirely the fool he knew himself to be. For the first time in months he felt something that might have resembled happiness. Or relief. He was so full with it that, try as he might, Arthur couldn't bring himself to reign it in. The camp felt full again after the loss of so many at Blackwater. Having someone come back to them after such a long time was the turn around that the Van Der Linde gang no doubt needed. Furthermore, there was no way that Jay, upon realizing how much she was needed and missed, would continue to doubt that this was where she belonged. 

"You’ve been gone too long!" Ms. Grimshaw crooned. "We've been worried!"

Jay snorted and let go of Jack so he could return to his mother's skirts. "Come now, Ms. Grimshaw, we both know that ain’t true. I always caused more trouble than I was worth."

The elder woman laughed heartily and reached to pat Jay's cheeks. "No different than when you and the boys were young." Her eyes drifted to Arthur, then back again. "Arthur sure seems happy you're back."

With that, all present turned knowing, sly glances in his direction. All save for Jay, who grinned ruefully, clearly embarrassed for him.

Arthur felt something catch in his throat as each set of eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. Heat rose to his face that he knew had nothing to do with the humidity or the smoke from Pearson’s campfire. Before anything else could be said Arthur coughed, muttered something about chores, and quickly walked away. He was careful to ignore the giggles that followed him in his wake. Yet, shuffling along as fast as he could to avoid prying eyes did nothing to prevent Hosea from catching up with him just as he was beginning to work out his embarrassment by chopping wood. Arthur suffered the old man for some time until the conversation inevitably turned to his granddaughter.

"I just wanted to say, good on bringing her back, Arthur. I've been trying to get her to come home for months now. Glad someone finally managed it."

Arthur stopped mid axe swing, blinking away equal amounts sweat and frustration, and narrowed his eyes. "You knew?"

"Not everything, but I knew she ran into trouble just before Blackwater. After that, I had a hell of a time keeping up with her." Hosea took a seat nearby, grunting as he dipped low. "She never elaborated on the details, but I always hoped she'd decide to stop running and come back."

"And at no point did you plan on telling the rest of us?"

Hosea blinked and stared at Arthur for a long moment before turning his gaze to his granddaughter. Jay was talking with Lenny now, apparently sharing in a joke as they were both laughing merrily. Hosea, meanwhile, seemed to be sensing Arthur’s mounting frustration and was now choosing his words carefully.

"She didn't want me to. Said she didn't want to put anyone else at risk. Was afraid we'd come looking for her. After that, well...her letters stopped, and soon after that I wasn’t able to send any myself given how we were on the run too." Hosea sighed. “All of our contacts dried up, so even trying to see if anyone had run into her was a bust. She dropped off the map, Arthur. Same as us. Wasn’t much to do but hope, my boy.”

Arthur’s frown deepened. A muscle in his face was beginning to twitch as he worried at his jaw. He dropped his gaze and the axe to his feet, trying to sort just exactly how angry he was at hearing all of this. It had been one thing that Jay had been silent about her plight. It was another entirely that Hosea had kept quiet as well. 

"Did you know she has bounty hunters after her?" Arthur growled. He stormed up to Hosea but stopped a few paces away, knowing his instinctual tactics of intimidation would be ineffective and inappropriate here. "What if something had happened?"

"Believe me," the elder sighed, watching his granddaughter as she continued to mingle with others in camp. "It was on my mind every day."

"But you stayed quiet." Arthur hadn't meant it to sound like an accusation, but it did, and it was out there faster than he could take it back. Yet try as he might, Arthur couldn’t help but feel justified in his behavior. 

"What were any of us going to do, Arthur? Go after her? While we were already on the run? I couldn't send anyone away when we were already stretched thin as it was."

"Having Jay around would have been a lot of help."

"I'm not arguing with you, son. Believe me. But I knew if I said anything, we'd lose you and John to searching for her when we needed you both here."

Arthur swore, threw his hands up in the air in disgust, and walked away before he could say anything else he knew he'd regret. Just a few moments ago he had been elated with the turn of events that had befallen them. Now his thoughts were crashing into darkness. 

It had been wounding when he’d learned that he'd been left out of the loop with Blackwater. Now come to learn Hosea had known that Jay had been in trouble was too much. It was hard to not take it all personally. As if suddenly he could no longer be trusted to take care of matters, or the people he'd already spent most of his life protecting. 

After his interlude with Hosea, Arthur made himself scarce for the rest of the day. Any work he did he made sure took him far from camp and prying eyes. He needed some time alone to work things out before he spoke with anyone again.

It was late in the evening when he returned to singing and music around a tall campfire. Someone — Charles most likely — had caught a boar for dinner while Pearson had added a vegetable concoction that didn’t actually look too bad. Drinking had also gotten well underway. Karen was three sheets to the wind with Sean not far behind, both singing merrily to a tune that no one was playing. Even Molly seemed happier than usual as she and Dutch cavorted in the shadows just outside of their tent.

Unfortunately, this all served nothing in terms of alleviating Arthur’s dark mood. As such, he trudged through the camp while trying with some effort to avoid everyone. Despite his best efforts, John of all people still managed to cut him off before reaching his tent with a smile and a hand offering a bottle of beer. Arthur was both thirsty enough and angry enough to take it, whether it had come from John or not.

"Feels good, don't it?" He grinned, the stitches on his face stretching in the process. "It’s like we've got everyone back again."

"Not everyone," Arthur grumbled. John's face fell almost instantly.

"No, not everyone." John's voice lowered. "But you can't tell me you ain't happy to have her back."

Arthur scoffed. " 'Course I am."

"It was just us three for so long, you know? The Van Der Linde brats. We could do no wrong!" 

"Oh we did plenty wrong," Arthur shot back, but there was a sense of pleasure in his words. Those early days had consisted of pick pocketing, looting, and shootouts once Jay and John had been deemed old enough to handle a gun. None had been as good a shot as Arthur, but they'd had their wild fun all the same and caused more than their fair share of trouble. Some at the bidding of Dutch and Hosea, and some entirely of their own accord. He counted those years as some of the happiest of his life. 

Jay had also been the first girl Arthur had ever liked, and then the first he'd kissed. The act had been furtive, taboo even, which had made it all the more exciting. He couldn't remember what drove them apart that first time. He suspected it might have been meeting Mary, but those days were a blur forgotten to time. He supposed in the wake of things, that didn’t matter much anymore. 

John laughed again, drawing Arthur from his reverie. "I guess that's true." 

The two outlaws shared a companionable silence for a few minutes, watching as the others had their celebration of another triumphant return home. Javier had taken up the guitar in the time since John and Arthur had talked, and everyone in camp seemed to finally be winding down.

"She don't wanna stay," Arthur said eventually.

John laughed again, but when he saw Arthur’s face, he stopped. "What? You can't be serious? Why?"

"Apparently she got into some trouble back in New York. Got bounty hunters on her tail. Said she’s worried she'll bring them down on us."

"Well, what's one more bit of trouble in the ocean of problems we're already swimming in?" John took a swig of his beer. "You're not going to actually let her go, are you?"

Arthur frowned and shook his head. "The hell makes you think I can tell that woman what to do?"

The corner of John's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "She'll listen to you, Arthur."

"I don't want to tell her what to do, neither."

"You want her to stay, don't you?"

He watched as Jay moved amongst the others in camp until she’d taken up a seat next to Javier. The two were beginning a conversation. Lenny had just handed her a book that was still in her hand, yet to be opened. Around her, several folks were yawning and bidding her goodnight. Jay nodded to all in turn, patting hands and accepting embraces. Her face was alight in a manner that had nothing to do with the fire, the music, or the alcohol.

“More than anything,” Arthur admitted, watching all of this and wishing he could somehow preserve the moment forever. "But...I want her to _want_ to stay, too."

"Sure. I get your meaning. But you best tell her, then."

Arthur started to argue, but Jon had already wandered off.

***

Arthur moped for a good portion of the night after that, drifting from one side of the camp to the other. He never strayed too far from the main group, mostly so that he could make sure he never lost sight of Jay. He didn't expect her to up and leave in the middle of everything, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Javier, Lenny, Uncle, and Bill had long since gone to sleep, but the girls were still up and talking. Tilly and Mary Beth seemed exceptionally keen on knowing what New York was like and all its fancy parties. Jay had tried striking up a conversation with Sadie, but it seemed the latter hadn't had the energy to maintain her composure and soon dismissed herself from the company of all.

Despite all of his attempts to be subtle, Arthur would still resort to watch her whenever she wasn't looking. When her gaze would meet his, he'd swiftly jump to looking, quite literally, anywhere else. He wanted to talk to her, but every word that came to mind was twisted through a lump of anger in his throat, and Arthur didn't trust that he could express himself in any way that wouldn't be shouting. He didn't want that, even for as angry as he was. He didn't want to give Jay any reason to support her desire to leave again.

"You must be happy," said a quiet voice to Arthur’s left. He jumped and whirled around to see Mary Beth timidly standing beside him, nursing a cup of something in her hand. She must have excused herself from the party just recently as Arthur hadn’t remembered seeing her leave. Her expression was soft, but she was smiling like she'd just been told a big secret. Arthur was getting tired of everyone looking at him like that. 

"To have Jay back, I mean. It's like we finally had some good luck." Arthur nodded slowly. He was tired and more than a little tipsy at this point, but he couldn't help feel like Mary Beth was trying to get at something. "It's hard to remember what that feels like, you know? A good thing when you've got it? Because before you know it, it could be gone and you're left dreaming about a future you lost before you ever took hold and claimed it for your own." Arthur stared at her, blinking. She didn't meet his gaze, though. Instead, she watched the river with that knowing smile still on her face. 

He started to say something. To argue or agree, he wasn't sure, but he was suddenly cut off by the others hollering for him to join the festivities. Arthur glanced at them, then back at Mary Beth. 

She looked at him then too, and with the gentlest of touches rested a hand on his arm.

"You better tell her, Arthur, or you might never get another chance."

Arthur swallowed hard and nodded, leaving her standing at the hill's edge, still gazing out onto the river.

When he joined the others at the campfire, he was suddenly struck by the realization that he'd lost track of Jay completely. Momentary panic seized in his chest. When he asked after her, Swanson said she'd walked off to talk to Hosea. Without another word Arthur followed after, tripping over himself in his rush. As he got closer to where they stood, deliberately set apart from the rest of the group, he could hear them arguing, grandfather and granddaughter both. Preferring not to interrupt and not wanting to be seen, Arthur dipped into the surrounding shadows and hoped no one noticed him eavesdropping on what was clearly meant to be a private matter.

"You need to stay." He heard the old man say fiercely. "This job of yours didn't work out. You're not safe by yourself. Besides, we need you here."

"I did just fine on my own, thank you very much."

"Those scars say otherwise." 

Arthur blinked, uncertain that he’d heard right. What scars was Hosea talking about? 

Jay's voice was strained when she answered. "I managed."

"You might not be so lucky next time." A pause, and then Hosea's voice became shaky. Emotional. "Jane, you're the last blood relative I have left. The last of Bessie, and a son I barely knew. I don't want to see you throw your life away for pride."

"I'm keeping everyone safe!" Jay rebuked fiercely. "If I'm here and the bounty hunters find you —"

"They're already after us!" Hosea snapped, interrupting. "Why run from the safety of the group when we have the same problem? It doesn't make sense!"

When Jay didn't argue, Hosea kept going. "What happens if they catch up to you again? What happens if they finish the job? We won't even know what happened to you. I don't want to spend the time I have left wondering what's become of my family, Jane. You need to stay. If not for me, stay for the boys. For John. For Arthur."

"Arthur?" Jay said his name in such a way that he felt a sting in his heart. As if the premise were the most ridiculous thing in the world. "The hell does Arthur have to do with anything?"

"You're not stupid, Jay. You know he's sweet on you. Always has been."

Jay laughed reproachfully. "He's got Mary."

That hurt Arthur even worse. Mary had turned him away in the end. Jay had been there for that. Why would she think Mary mattered any more? But then Arthur remembered — he had fished her portrait out and set it on his side table the day he'd delivered Jamie to her, and it was still there now even though Tilly, Mary Beth, and Ms. Grimshaw had all lectured him for still being beholden to her. Yet the picture had remained out, and for all this time he hadn't even given it a second thought. Of course, then, it would still look like he was pining for the woman who had thrown him away. Of course Jay wouldn't think that Arthur really wanted her to stay for more than just another helping hand around camp.

His heart sank. His anger, forgotten. Why was he such a damn fool?

"Arthur hasn't had Mary or anyone but you in over a decade, Jane. The boy's head over heels for you. He's just too afraid to admit it."

"You're wrong." 

"I'm _right_. And I'm right that I know you feel the same way." Jay scoffed and made to protest, but Hosea cut her off. "Everyone remembers how you two used to make eyes at each other when you thought no one was looking. Hell, he's been doing it all night tonight! I'm not stupid. It's also why I know you don't want to stay. You think he's moved on. Well, I’m telling you, he hasn't."

He should have been angry with Hosea for all of this, but the truth was that Arthur’s heart had quickened in his chest, waiting to hear the words he needed to come from Jay. Yet the silence stretched on, and in all the nothing being said, Arthur was certain he could hear her answer anyway.

Hosea sighed.

"Just...think on it. Okay?" 

He couldn't hear Hosea's footsteps as the man left, nor did he hear Jay's until he turned and ran — quite accidentally — directly into her. Arthur’s heart jumped as he reached to steady her, apologizing, but Jay was already laughing with her grip tight on his arms.

"We really need to stop meeting like this," she said with a smile. It was like her conversation with Hosea had never happened. Her face was bright and wide, her eyes fixed on his with apt attention. Arthur realized then, and perhaps for the first time, just how vast Jay’s capacity to hide things from people truly was. It frightened him a little, but more so it saddened him. He knew what that was like; had known almost all his life what that was like. It was lonely to keep so much to yourself, and Jay, out of all the people Arthur knew, didn't deserve to be lonely. 

"What's wrong?" She asked when Arthur didn’t reply. Her smile fell as realization took hold. "You heard all that, didn't you?"

"Not all," Arthur lied. He wasn't sure he was convincing, but he had to try. When he spoke again, however, he couldn't keep the tremor from his voice. "You're really not gonna stay?"

Jay sighed. Her gaze pierced into Arthur as she held his eyes for a moment. She started to speak, then stopped. Started and then stopped again. Eventually her eyes fell away, staring out into camp instead. Everyone who was still awake was drinking, eating, and laughing. Others were contentedly rolling into beds and tents to sleep off their varying levels of drunkenness. Arthur could see the longing in her face but uncertainty was there as well. 

It was now or never, like Mary-Beth had said. If he didn't take hold of this now — if he didn't try — he'd lose Jay forever, and that was something Arthur couldn't contend with.

So before she could say anything that could break his heart, he reached up to cradle her face between his cupped palms. His thumbs smoothed at her cheeks. They stared at each other for one long moment that stretched out like eternity. Then, before Arthur could talk himself out of it; before he could let the fear and self doubt tell him not to do it — that he didn't deserve this — he leaned down and kissed her. 

He didn't know if this was going to be a goodbye kiss, or if it was a kiss begging her to stay. What he did know was that Jay didn’t pull away when his lips touched hers. She didn’t push him, or speak to stop him. She tensed on instinct but quickly relaxed. When Arthur pulled her closer to deepen the kiss, his hands moving down to her waist, she came to him willingly. In turn, she wrapped her arms around him. One at the waist and one at the shoulder, pulling him tighter to her. 

She smelled of smoke and tasted of whisky and salt. Her body, though small, was lean and firm in his arms. Jay had always been a strong woman to be sure; her body having been shaped and sharpened by a life on the run, but the solidness of her frame pressed so tightly against his own was like having an electric current sent straight to his heart. 

It awakened every memory of every night they’d spent together in Arthur’s mind. Every promise that had passed from his lips to her ears. He wanted to make good on all of them again. He wanted to make new ones to her now. All he would ask is that she stay. Jay had always been a fire in his blood and now he was alight all over again as he absorbed the taste of her: whisky and wine. 

He knew at that moment he would forever be drunk off of her yet never fully quenched. For as long as Arthur breathed, he would always need more of her, to the point of his undoing.

Before Mary. Before Eliza. It had always been her. He realized, or maybe remembered anew, that once he would have set the world ablaze if she'd asked him to, and he'd never look back once the match struck. He felt that again, having her here as he burned up on the inside. 

Their kiss deepened in the furthest recesses away from camp. Arthur's hands fell even lower, and Jay reacted by pressing her hips into him. Arthur grunted at the impact and began to feel his body respond.

"Oy, fuckin' finally!"

The pair looked over to see Sean grinning at them, the rest of the camp mimicking his expression though trying to pretend that they didn't see.

Arthur harrumphed, irritated that their moment had been interrupted. Swearing, he took Jay by the hand and led her back to his tent; all while trying to ignore the jeering and snickering that followed in their wake.


	4. SCARS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Smut. Sex.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Talking about violence.

Jay awoke early that morning an entirely different kind of sore than her journey south had left her. It was a good feeling to be sure, but still one she’d need to be careful to not hint at later lest the teasing would never stop. 

It has been painfully evident that Jay and Arthur both had gone way too long without these pleasures of the flesh up until now. So much, in fact, that the entire first half of their night had not been dedicated to even a modicum of sleep. 

The effort to be discreet in their endeavors had been almost as difficult to maintain as the effort to keep up with one another, remembering the other's preferences, what stimulated, what didn't, and so on. Eventually they rediscovered their rhythm, and with the time remaining to them set about to make up for it for as long as the night and their bodies would allow.

Jay had never thought she could have forgotten how compatible she and Arthur were in bed, yet somehow last night had been better than she’d ever remembered. Her body was heavy with memory now as well as sleep. The heat was helping with that of course. In fact, Arthur's tent was almost unbearably stuffy with its privacy flaps drawn down, but she found she didn't mind that much. Jay also didn't mind the near giant of a man that was practically draped over her naked side, snoring gently into the nape of her neck as her hair tangled and gripped at his beard stubble. 

Their nearly conjoined flesh, divided by a thin film of sweat and nothing else, didn't serve to alleviate the heat either. Nor did the single blanket that hid the rest of their bodies, which were currently curled up on the ground as Arthur’s bed was too small to house them both. 

The humidity laden air of the tent reeked of sweat and the pungent animal smell that only sex could create; and while the lightest of breezes from the Dakota River would sometimes brush against the tent's walls and cause them to dance, it was rarely strong enough to penetrate the fabric. Jay was only to be teased with the promise of fresher air and an abatement from the heat, but would get no reprieve. Not wanting to rise and end the moment however, she mindlessly threaded her fingers through the grass while listening to the gentle rhythm of Arthur's sleep-heavy breathing, letting her lungs lazily expand beneath the weight of him and the heat.

Despite all of these things, Jay had to acknowledge that she hadn't been this content for months. She'd been too long on the run accompanied by too long trying to pretend to be someone she wasn't among the elite of New York and it had left her more exhausted than she'd realized. Coming home was exactly what she had needed, even though Jay would never admit it out loud. 

It wasn't just good for her she noted as Arthur snored a little louder into her neck.

Arthur had been desperate for her to stay since they'd run into each other in Valentine. Yes, he had missed her, but things were going so poorly that her presence was more out of a need for survival than any affections Arthur might hold for her. It would have been an understatement to say that things were dire. Between the O'Driscolls, Pinkertons, Cornwall, and Jay's own issue with Logan Shaw, many were worried that the infamous Van der Linde gang had finally bit off more than it could chew and they were soon going to find themselves choking. Yet how they were going to fix this was currently beyond her. 

Some things just couldn't be fixed no matter how good you were, and the Van der Linde gang had, up until now, been quite good at what they did. Jay had been no exception to this. She was quick to draw and quicker with a knife. Good at reading people and situations. Even Dutch had said her instincts were sharper than most, which was why it had been such a disappointment that her job, the scheme she had cooked up for well over a year, had been a catastrophic failure. Part of her felt like she'd disappointed everyone and soiled the Van der Linde name. That maybe she ought to have had to earn her place back, not just come crawling home with the wolves at her feet into open arms. Yet, if she had a place anywhere, it was here with the only family she had remaining. 

Besides, even if she left, where would she go? What would she do? No, Jay admitted to herself at length. Hosea had been right. Leaving was foolish and prideful, and if she got caught there was a good chance she would be used as bait to lure the others out. If they'd gone back for Sean, they'd surely come for her. Even if she wasn't wholly confident in Arthur’s romantic pursuits of her, she knew he'd at least never give her up for dead.

A sigh escaped her lips, acting as a pressure valve against the litany of intrusive thoughts she was being plagued with. She had to hope that things would work out. Dutch said he has a plan. Arthur trusted him. Hosea trusted him. She knew she had to as well. What else did they have?

Just as Jay was beginning to lose herself in the topmost layers of sleep again, her skin began to buzz with a series of kisses that crawled slowly along her shoulder blade. 

"Mornin'," came a gruff voice from behind. 

"Morning," Jay reciprocated. "Sleep well?" 

Arthur replied by winding his arms tight around Jay to draw her closer. He hummed against the back of her neck in affirmation. Another kiss, this time at the base of her neck, sent a chill up Jay's spine. "Careful cowboy," she whispered. "I could get used to this."

He laid another kiss just near her collarbone. "I sure hope so." 

Jay smiled while closing her eyes against the sensation of Arthur’s affections; preferring to feel instead of see as his lips moved up and around her neck to her ear, then to the base of her skull and back down again. What his lips failed to touch his hands caressed instead, breaking over her like water. Around them the camp was slowly coming to life for the day, but their small world remained untouched by everything save for the sound and heat. 

Arthur leaned into Jay, using his weight to pin her gently beneath him as he continued to plant a series of kisses along her spine. Jay laughed, and she could both hear and feel Arthur’s delighted chuckle in response. He tackled her flesh like a man starved, and Jay was eager to see him fed. 

She arched her back, which gave Arthur’s seeking hands access to her breasts. He leaned in further to kiss and nip at her neck. He never stopped moving; one hand sliding upwards to cup her throat and hold her head, the other going lower, drifting slowly down past her navel. Jay felt herself trembling in excitement as more of his weight gradually shifted on top of her. She was strong enough to counter some of his weight like this, and so she pushed up into him to rock him ever so slightly. Jay's back collided with Arthur’s bare chest, just enough to make him grunt from the impact. 

His eagerness drifted out in a low moan, so in response Jay raised her haunches and pushed herself against his hips. He grunted again. His one hand tightening its grasp as the other found her wetness between her legs. His fingers slipped in-between her and teased where she was most sensitive. It was her turn to moan as he stoked the fire there, just a little too loud for comfort. His hand cupped over her mouth as another lilted out of her, followed by a gasp; at which point Arthur growled in her ear: "Yer all mine now."

She gasped again as he entered her, but it was muffled by his hand which was still over her mouth. Arthur rocked into her, holding her tightly as he continued to stroke her from the front. Within seconds she was up on her knees, leaning her back into him to deepen his thrusts. Arthur groaned as her body operated as a counterweight against his body. His left hand moved back down to her breasts. He buried his face in her shoulder to muffle his own grunts. Arthur’s fingers never stopped, and it took everything in Jay not to cry out as the bubble of her ecstasy exploded and made the world imperceivable beyond her own immediate environment. Both were breathless until the very end when they were spent and lying face down in their makeshift bedding, panting, but still tangled in each other's arms. Eventually they started to giggle like children. When that too passed, Jay heard Arthur speak.

"Better?" 

Jay raised an eyebrow. 

"I didn't exactly have any complaints before."

"Nah, just took a while."

Jay shrugged which was a lost gesture under Arthur's weight. "That's to be expected."

"I s'pose." He laughed. Arthur placed one more kiss on her shoulder before rolling over onto his back. He sighed contentedly and smiled up at the ceiling of his tent, utterly drenched in sweat. Jay watched him longingly before his gaze turned back to her. His boyish smile stayed, lighting up his eyes. His one crooked tooth poked out from under his lips. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jay lied, but her eyes stayed on him even when he turned away. “If this was the kind of welcome I’d been expecting I think I’d have come back sooner.”

Arthur laughed heartily at that. 

“I didn’t think that would be the best thing to offer up front, but now that I know I’ll keep that in my back pocket next time.”

“Mmm. Do I get to try and find it back there?” She laughed and rolled on her side, inching closer to Arthur and pinching at his waist. 

He laughed again and rolled to face her in turn. The softness in his eyes and the affection there was so vast that Jay could swim in it. She wished he’d look at her that way forever. She ached for it. For him. It was something in her that would never change.

“Yer beautiful.” Arthur whispered in the dim light of the morning. 

Slowly he reached out to brush the hair from her face. His hand lingered for a second just above her ear, then traced down the sensitive flesh of her neck. Almost instantly, however, he stopped, and Jay’s terror at the realization as to why froze her in place. He had found the scar at her neck, and was now for the first time seeing the rest of them as well. Jay swore. Her first instinct was to grab for the blanket to hide herself, but it had been thrown aside in their lovemaking and was now out of reach. How could she have forgotten about those so quickly? Normally her neckerchief had covered them well enough, and last night had been too dark for Arthur to see, but in the light of morning those scars would be all too visible and surely he would have questions.

Instead she lay there frozen. Arthur winced as his fingers trailed along her skin, following the tapestry of lacerated flesh that was her body. Jay allowed his eyes and fingers to rake over the markings down her chest, over her left shoulder, down her rib cage and ending just above her left pelvic bone. Then there were the two red, angry scars at her neck. The first one he had found was under her jawline, running parallel to it. The other just across the soft arch of her throat. They all had a deliberate flow to them that would tell anyone familiar with violence these were not inflicted from injury, but from an attacker who'd had the luxury of time. Jay could see that knowledge take shape in Arthur’s eyes as his fingers traced the marks in her flesh, and the sorrow that blossomed there even as he caressed the soft valleys of skin between her scars. Eventually his hands and gaze found their way back to her face. He leaned in and kissed her on the brow, then on the lips. He then threw his arm over her as if to shield her body from any future damage.

"You don't gotta tell me what happened," he whispered. When he spoke his voice shook, and beneath it Jay recognized the deep cadence of Arthur’s anger. It was a thunder in his voice. Soft and roiling like a distant storm on the open plains. "But these are raw, and they look painful. Did I hurt you last night?"

Jay sighed. 

"No." She said, and it was the truth. "They still ache sometimes, but I'm fine." She let the silence stretch. After a moment’s wait, Arthur pulled Jay tighter into himself. It was clear he was waiting for her to speak, but had no intention to openly force the issue. 

"The bounty hunter. The one I told you about."

"He did this?"

Jay nodded. "He caught up with me at night. I was sleeping. He woke me up. Put a knife to my throat. Cut me to get answers. Asked me about where you lot was." She stopped, taking in a deep breath. "When I didn’t tell him what he wanted he cut me here." She traced the line at her throat, the one that had been meant to end her life. "I knocked him out as he did. I left him there and ran, but the cut was too deep and bled too much for me to get far. If I hadn’t made it to the road, and a passing traveller hadn't found me, I would have choked to death on my own blood."

Jay didn't realize she was shaking until Arthur wrapped his hands around hers. Later, when Jay was able to calm down, he kissed her forehead. Her eyes. Her nose. Her jawline. He avoided the scar this time.

"Yer all right now," Arthur whispered. He kissed her temple and brushed the hair away from her face again. The motions were so tender, so sweet, that Jay wanted to cry. "Ain't no one gonna hurt you while I'm here."

For a moment, Jay wondered how long that would be. 

She didn't want to point out that they'd slept together mere feet away from a photo of Mary Linton. That they were all fugitives on the run. That they'd only become a constant in one another's lives again by running into each other less than forty-eight hours ago, after several years apart because he had had his heart broken by the very woman who looked down at Jay disdainfully from the bedside table now.

Then she laughed, somewhat bitterly, at all of her angry, racing thoughts. When Arthur frowned at her Jay cast her gaze away.

"I'm sorry," she sighed at last, realizing that come what may she needed to let herself enjoy this. Tenderness wasn't a luxury Jay was used to so she was going to indulge while she could, even if Arthur’s words were a ridiculous promise in a world that always found a way to take what it wanted. Even if he didn't mean them. Though she was sure in this moment that he did. 

Arthur’s expression softened. "Nothing to be sorry for." He whispered, then he sighed and took Jay's face in his hands. "I'm glad yer all right."

Jay said nothing. Instead she sidled up to Arthur even more and took comfort in the warmth of his body. She laid there for a long time in the safety of his arms, willing the memories of that night to go away. What she hadn’t told Arthur, she feared, was far worse. 

She’d tracked that man down later, after she had recovered enough to move on her own. She'd found him at night and returned the favor he'd done her, only she'd done it right, and in the low light of his dying campfire she'd taken his head. She'd removed his eyes and his tongue and placed the severed head on a sign post at a crossroads nearby. She’d then dismembered the body and dumped it in separate areas along the Grizzlies as she rode south. Jay had never before in her life done something so brutal, and she feared the repercussions of her actions would someday return to haunt her.

Arthur seemed to sense something else in Jay's silence, but he was either unwilling or afraid to ask more. Instead he leaned over and kissed the crook of her collarbone, a motion that required little movement as Jay was tucked up beneath his chin. He kissed once. Twice. He rolled her gently onto her back and began a slow trek down over her chest. Meanwhile, his right hand danced lower. 

Normally this might have seemed inappropriate, but feeling Arthur there in the moment, his attentiveness and tenderness, brought her back to the present. She felt safe and calm underneath him, her anxiety forgotten. But even in that moment Jay sensed his unasked questions. His face revealed all too many emotions running through his mind as he debated what to ask of her. He settled on the one that said enough.

"I don't suppose it's worth asking you to stay one more time?"

Jay blinked and went quiet. She already knew her answer to that question — the one she wanted to give at least. But when pressed, her doubts began to flare again. Should she stay when her failures were as evident as the scars on her skin? When there was a target painted so readily on her back? Would she really do more good than harm if she stayed? Was the safety of everyone here worth risking on that gamble?

As Jay agonized over her indecision, she felt Arthur sag with a relenting sigh. He laid down atop her, his head rested on her chest. In the twilight that still remained inside of his tent, their peace not yet disturbed by the world outside, Arthur whispered one final, hushed word: "Please?"

The tiny voice with which he uttered that singular plea cracked Jay's heart. Where a moment ago he had been a storm, now he was a boy; compliant and wanting nothing more than her assurance that she wouldn't leave him like so many before. She knew what that felt like, and she remembered Hosea's words. Stay for the boys. The two men who had been her family for longer than anyone else in her life. John, her brother, and Arthur, who had always been something more.

Smiling, Jay reached down and lifted his face to meet her gaze. "I'll stay. For you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

One of Jay's favorite things about Arthur was his smile. Not the slight, nervous one he gave whenever he was uncertain or uncomfortable. Nor the cocky grin he would whip up when a hand of cards was unusually good, or when he got the drop on someone in a fight. While she loved those too, it was his genuine, full face brimming with joy smile; the only one that showed off all of his teeth — even the one that had been knocked crooked in a fist fight several years ago — was the one she loved best. The smile was boyish and pure. It went all the way up to his eyes and even wrinkled his nose. It lit Arthur up both inside and out, and it illuminated Jay's world every time she saw it. She'd learned a long time ago that she would say yes to anything if it meant Arthur would look at her like that, and deep down she hoped he never found out. 

Arthur had that smile now as he had once before, and Jay's insides coiled with equal parts delight and dread. _God, I love this man._ She thought as she stared into his green eyes, her hands framing his cheeks. _He's going to be the death of me, and I won't even regret it because I'm such a fool._

Arthur crawled up to meet her, the smile never leaving his face, and planted a clumsy kiss right on her lips. His left arm supported his weight so as not to crush her, but his right hand trailed down in search of other delights. She moaned when he found her there, but it was muffled against his lips. Arthur broke the kiss to grin down at her deviously. 

"We're not done yet, Miss Matthews," his voice rumbled in his chest, and he was close enough that it transferred to Jay's. 

"I hope we never are, cowboy." Jay smiled and licked her lips. Thankfully, it was still early and they were not likely to be missed yet.


	5. DOWNES RANCH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave it to me to keep writing and forget to post chapters. Sorry, folks.

DOWNES RANCH

"You know, you didn't have to come with." 

Arthur glanced over at Jay. Her eyes were looking out over the plains of New Hanover; watchful while squinting against the morning sun. Ever the sentinel, Arthur mused.

The heat, already sweltering at this hour, was promising to climb higher before the day was out. The air was so thick that each of them could feel it as it entered and expanded their lungs, making them feel heavier with every inhale. To make things worse, with it came the stench of farmland sticking to their tongues and nostrils like an ichor. It lined the inside of Arthur’s sinuses and, he was sure, his clothes too. No matter how often he spat, he couldn't chase it away. His blue button up shirt, nearly soaked through, clung to his flesh to further serve his sense of slowly suffocating. It wasn't even midday. 

Jay's white button up was beginning to show signs of ample sweat as well, making the fabric conform just as tightly to her sides and back. Despite his misery, Arthur would occasionally catch his gaze wandering when she wasn't looking. He tried not to think of taking it off of her as they rode on.

"I know."

"This could get ugly."

"He's a farmer, Arthur. It can't get _that_ ugly." Jay shifted her gaze to him, her expression quizzical. "Why are you so worried?"

"I ain't worried," he lied, clearing his throat. "It's just...you been out for a while."

"You think I've gone soft?" There was playful anger in her voice to join the wicked grin she was throwing his way. Arthur couldn't help but laugh.

"No. I know you ain't gone soft."

"You think I lost my edge with them city boys? Is that it?" As she said this, Jay reached out and playfully kicked at Arthur’s leg. He feigned surprise while she laughed at him and tried with minimal success to hide his grin behind his hand, pretending instead to scratch his chin while waving off some flies. He knew Jay was joking, and while he enjoyed the banter, he sensed she was harboring suspicions about his true motives.

"I _know_ you ain't lost your edge. I just…" Arthur trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"Mister Morgan, I hope you ain’t _worried_ about me?"

"I'm always worried."

Jay clucked her tongue and shook her head with mock disapproval. At the same time she brought her mare to bump ever so slightly into Arthur’s horse. The palomino huffed, clearly annoyed as it veered away. "Hosea's been rubbing off on you."

"Hm. Probably."

They rode along for a few minutes in companionable silence, moving aside as wagons and even a milk cart passed them by. A few waved to Arthur. Several waved to Jay. He even caught one young man doing a double take as he continued down the road on his thoroughbred. Arthur narrowed his eyes as the man passed them by, though he was sure he could no longer be seen by the time he had gained some distance.

"What're you waiting for?"

Arthur snapped to attention. Jay had already started up the path again. She'd been a few dozen yards away before having apparently realized she'd misplaced her companion. 

"Nothing," he grumbled, then led his horse to canter alongside hers.

Jay chuckled. "If you say so."

As the silence stretched between them again Arthur realized, but didn’t want to admit, how nice this was. Every moment made him remember how much he had missed having Jay around. It wasn't just his feelings for her. Jay was familiar. She'd been a constant in his life for over twenty years, and though he'd never admit it, her parting from the gang had felt like losing a very vital piece of himself. It had almost been as bad as John leaving, the only difference being that Jay's absence had been planned with the eventual intention of her return. With John, Arthur had felt abandoned. Both had hurt, but for different reasons.

"It is good to have you back, though." Arthur said after sorting his thoughts.

"You don't have to keep doing that, Arthur." He glanced over at her. "I said I was staying, didn't I?" Her tone was exasperated now. She was watching the ground. Maybe for snakes. Maybe to avoid his eyes. 

Arthur frowned.

"No, I know. I was just thinking. It's nice to have someone along that isn't a pain in the ass all the time is all."

Jay snorted. "I was a pain in your ass for _years_ , Arthur. Don't go rewriting history all of a sudden."

"Not as much as some," he admitted. "But we're all a pain in someone's ass sometimes. You at least don't try to be."

"I'll be sure to correct that."

The farm was certainly modest. Arthur already had reservations upon seeing it. He hadn't asked Strauss what the debt was but however much Downes must have borrowed had clearly not been invested here. Usually that meant that the borrower in question was probably a gambler, or had fallen in with someone or a number of someone's. That desperation often made for return customers, which was always good for business. Other times it meant payment had to be taken through different means, which would likely lead to violence. It was for that reason Arthur hated doing this kind of work. Naturally he had no qualms with violence, but beating up desperate, otherwise law abiding citizens always left a sour taste in his mouth. It wasn't like robbing a bank or an oil tycoon, people who built their fortunes on the backs of exploited workers, or worse. These people _were_ the exploited, and now he was taking from them what little they were able to eke out. 

Still, if it was between that and the gang falling apart, he'd opt for the former every time.

Arthur dismounted first and made his way over to a penned off area where a sickly looking man was taking a garden hoe to soil. Jay kept watch on the house, nodding at him to signal that she saw no movement inside. 

"Mr. Downes!" He bellowed. The man jumped upon hearing Arthur’s shout. He moved to wipe some sweat from his brow before timidly greeting the duo.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to collect what you owe to Herr Strauss." Downes faltered. His already frail frame seemed to fall in on itself upon hearing those words. 

"Please sir," he wheezed, extending his hands in supplication. "Please, I need just a little more time. I've been sick, and the crops --" Arthur didn’t give the man a moment to continue. He had Downes slammed up against the fence almost at the exact same time a woman, undoubtedly Mrs. Downes, and a teenage boy came running out of the house screaming. Arthur looked over to Jay who simply nodded. She moved forward and raised a hand to stop the pair while placing a free hand on her gunbelt, just enough to show that it was there. "Don't hurt them!" Downes begged, seeing Jay with her hand on the butt of a revolver. He moved to push Arthur away, but the outlaw held him firm.

"She won't hurt them if you cooperate, Mr. Downes," Arthur growled. His face was mere inches away from Thomas, teeth bared. "Now all you gotta do is pay what you owe."

"I don't have it!" He whimpered. "But I'll get it. I swear! I just need more time!"

Arthur was about to protest before a commotion rose up behind him. He whirled to see the teenage boy attempting to tackle Jay to the ground. Mrs. Downes screamed again while her husband collapsed, now loosed from Arthur’s grip. 

Arthur lunged towards the tussle prepared for a fight, but he found rather quickly that he wasn't needed. Jay had ground her feet firmly into the dirt and as such had enough momentum to roll the boy over her hip and pin him with a knee, then used her spare hand to nestle a gun at the cradle of the kid's skull. Mrs. Downes began to scream anew, begging for her son's life. Jay, winded but otherwise unphased, glanced up at Arthur momentarily before wrestling one of the boy's hands behind his back. 

"Alright?" He asked. Jay only nodded, her focus fully on the Downes boy. 

Thomas was still on the ground when Arthur turned back to him. He was hacking violently. Blood dribbled between his teeth and onto the soil. Arthur knew he hadn't hit the man hard enough for that. Then he realized, swearing. 

"Get the money," Arthur growled at him, hovering just close enough to be imposing. "You don't want me to come back mad."

Arthur stormed off. 

Jay, seeing that their work was finished, released the son from her grasp. Her knee had been placed firmly on his lower back, eliminating much of his mobility and using her weight to her advantage. Arthur had taught her that move. He was oddly pleased to see she remembered it.

They took their horses and rode off empty handed.

"I can't believe Strauss gave that idiot money," Arthur growled when they were far enough away. "The man's dying. We'll be lucky to see a penny of it back."

"Guess the son will have to inherit the debt. Just like he'll inherit that lousy farm." Jay sighed. "They're destitute, Arthur."

"I know."

"Is this really the kind of work y'all have been doing these days?"

Arthur grunted. "Kind of a new thing. Make some money while keeping our heads down."

"Doesn't seem like we're doing much of either."

Arthur agreed. When they had finally gotten far enough away, he added: "You handled yourself well back there."

"Told you I hadn't gone soft."

"I believed you!"

"Uh huh." After a few moments of silence, Jay went on. "You know, I've seen that shit back in New York. Whole burroughs of people sick with consumption. He'll be lucky to have not infected his family." Jay cast a furtive eye behind them, as if she could see the cloud of disease in their wake. 

Arthur nodded. "There was a town south of Blackwater hit the same. People just lying outside, waiting to die. Imagine it must have been worse out in New York." Arthur paused, realizing. "You weren't close to anyone sick out there were you?"

Jay laughed. "If I'd gotten it I'd have died long before I made it to Valentine. Don't worry. I may have brought my fair share of trouble with me, but I didn't bring that."

He nodded, considering, and decided he wanted to change the subject.

"So what was it like up there in New York, anyway?"

Jay made a wholly unladylike noise in the back of her throat and spit. "Hated it."

"Yeah?" Arthur couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice. "Why's that? Figured you'd take pretty well to high society." 

Jay fixed him with the bitterest of glares, but a smile was creeping through her facade all the same. "Nothing but a bunch of rich, stuffy morons who think they know everything about the world and what it needs. More railroads! More factories! Profits profits profits." Jay gestured wildly with her hands as she made, what Arthur could only guess, were impressions of said rich, stuffed up idiots. 

"Do you know how many times I was 'taught how to ride a horse?' Do you know how often they were wrong about how to ride a horse? Christ, I can't believe I didn't just shoot them all dead. To hell with the money, Arthur. Murdering them would have been a service to the nation."

"Mm. Well, I don't doubt you one bit there."

"And the way the women dress out there, Arthur. I swear on my mama's grave I'll never wear a damn skirt again. I'll hang first!"

Arthur shook his head, chuckling. "Now why you gotta dash all my hopes like that?"

"No." Jay put out a finger in a scolding manner that made her look disturbingly like Grimshaw. "Not. Happening. Besides, I look terrible in them anyway."

"I'm sure you looked all right." 

Arthur had a little bit more of a purr to his voice when he said that than he'd intended, but his mind had gone back to a few nights ago in his tent. 

Wondering what Jay looked like in those clothes immediately made him think about her out of them again. The coolness of her flesh. The firm curves of her muscles. The soft curves of her breasts. Her scent. Her quiet, rolling laugh in the dark. The ways she would bite her lip. The ways she would bite _his_. The minute he took one step off that path, he was in a landslide of fantasies all threatening to bury him. 

Arthur was partly ashamed of himself for this. He'd grown up with Jay. He'd watched her come into her own as an outlaw and as a woman, spectacular in her own way as both. Their shared adolescence had been a picture painted in bloodshed, gun oil and sweat. She was also the progeny of a man he looked to as his own father. Simply put, it was hard for Arthur to think of their relationship as natural or appropriate given their history. While at other times it didn't seem right to think it could be anything else.

He coughed and turned to look at something on the opposite side of the road to hide the red that was creeping up his neck. Thankfully, Jay was still on her diatribe and hardly noticed.

It therefore took both outlaws completely by surprise when a man wearing prison stripes and manacles stumbled out of the brush near Jay. Arthur had his revolver out in a second, but the man didn't seem to intend any harm. Still, Arthur kept the gun trained on him. Ready in case he made a move.

"Would you folks be willing to help a fella out?"

Jay was the first to speak. Her eyes were leveled. She was ready for a fight but didn't mean to make it obvious. "Depends on what you need, friend." 

The prisoner gestured at his bound feet. "Can you just shoot these off? I'll make it worth your while!"

"I doubt that." Arthur argued. "More 'n likely you'll just bring us trouble."

"Bet he's got a bounty on his head," Jay added with a wry grin. "Maybe this day is taking a fortuitous turn after all?"

The prisoner blinked. He glanced between Arthur and Jay, realizing that perhaps this was not the typical couple he had mistaken them to be.

"I...I know a place," he started, looking between the two outlaws, gauging them. "A house, just north of Annesburg."

"Annesburg?" Jay spat. "That's all the way in Roanoke Ridge!"

"Y-yes ma'am. Family there has a stash of money in the fireplace. Some jewelry too."

Arthur narrowed his gaze. "And how would a man like you know about this?"

"Cuz I was gonna rob it!"

"But you got caught."

"I did."

"Seems like it isn't worth the risk." Jay chimed in.

"Mmm. Or he's just a bad thief." Arthur added. 

Jay rubbed a hand over her mouth, a sign Arthur recognized as her mulling something over. "I mean, money and jewels? We're going back empty handed if we pass this up."

"The job he got caught trying to pull?"

Jay shrugged. "Like you said, maybe he's a bad thief."

Arthur made an exasperated noise, and with barely any effort shot the chain on the manacles between the convict's feet. 

"Off with ya!" He barked. When the man was gone, Arthur turned back to Jay. "You know, that could be a set up?"

"Approaching two strangers on the road to tell them about a house with hidden money while on the run from the law?" Jay raised an eyebrow as she spoke. "I suppose, Arthur, but that's a strange way to go about it."

Arthur harrumphed and holstered his gun.

"Why don't we just case the place? See what we can find."

"That's at least a day's ride."

"A day's ride with some money in our pockets after."

Arthur sighed and shook his head. He wanted to say no to this. He _should_ say no to this, but the devious light in Jay's eyes had managed to win him over. She also had an excellent point. If they didn't at least investigate this opportunity, they'd be going back to camp empty handed, and right now they needed every penny they could get.

"Fine," he sighed, drawing the word out as he spoke. "But any funny business and we're out of there."

"Of course." Jay kicked and whirled her horse around. "Race you!"

Before Arthur could respond a trail of dust kicked up in her wake, and she was gone. He groaned and followed after her. They went north and east through Cumberland Forest and then the southern points of Ambarino. The scenery changes during that ride were vast and mesmerizing. Unfortunately that did little to dissuade the heat which was soon so overpowering even the horses needed rest. 

Their race was eventually forgotten in pursuit of game and water. Arthur picked off a few rabbits with the bow gifted to him by Charles as Jay set up a small camp and set the horses to graze. When he returned she had a fire going and a bottle of bourbon opened on the ground beside her.

"Kinda hot for all that, ain’t it?" 

Arthur dropped the spoils of his hunt. Jay investigated them, sizing each one up for their meat content. "It's gonna be a hot summer. Might as well get used to it now."

He watched her skin the rabbits while he replaced the bow on his saddle. Her shirt had been sweat through completely now, plastered against the definition of her back and shoulders. Her sides weren't much different where the fabric clung to the dips and swells of her figure. Arthur didn't realize he was staring until she quipped over her shoulder at him, asking if he liked what he saw.

"You know I do."

Jay smirked before turning back to work on the rabbits. 

Arthur approached carefully so as not to startle her while she worked with her knife and sat behind her, making sure that her body was nestled between the valley of his legs. He reached around her midsection and slowly pulled her back into him so that she could recline on his chest.

"Arthur I'm disgusting," she hissed, presenting her blood soaked hands. 

"S'alright. Can give you a bath later."

"You'll need one too." Her tone had dropped an octave. Playful now.

"Even better."

Arthur sat up slightly. Jay was still propped up against him, but now he was able to rest his face in the crown of her hair. All of which hung loose around her shoulders. He enjoyed the quiet moment with just the two of them, her breathing softly against him.

They hadn't had time to be together since her first night back at camp. Chores, jobs, and several other tasks had kept them apart, and since Jay had her own bedroll and small tent there wasn't even an excuse for her to warm his bed in his absence. That was, if he had a bed large enough for two. 

All too quickly Arthur had begun to miss her touch and the feeling of waking up next to her in the morning. Greeting her next to the cooking fire with coffee wasn't enough, and despite so many witnessing their kiss, both were too shy to be openly affectionate in camp. Their gestures had been limited to pouring the other coffee if they got to the pot first or hands lingering a bit too long on the other's during an exchange of a cup or plate or a tool. Once Arthur had dared to kiss her cheek only to have Karen croon at them from one of her many drunken hideaways. They didn't make eye contact with each other the rest of the day after that.

Now in the silence of the forest he could hold her without fear of it turning into a scene. With no one around for miles, they could do other things as well. 

As Jay lay on him while wiping away blood, Arthur teased at her hair with a free hand. "How long you reckon we can be gone before they send a search party?" He was joking of course, but wouldn't deny that the idea wasn't appealing. 

"The real question is how soon before we return will it take people to starve to death?"

Arthur huffed a quick laugh before returning his attention to the woman in his lap. 

"That too."

Jay peered up and out into the sky as if it were an actual question one might answer. "Two days? Maybe three?"

"A lot can happen in that kind of time."

"Mmm." Jay replied. "So much and yet not enough."

Arthur nodded in agreement. 

It was too early to lay down for the night, so instead the duo moved further east and north until they came upon a pond. The area was secluded enough that they felt comfortable bathing without fear of being seen. The water was cold, which was to be expected, but they ended up finding ways to warm up afterwards. 

Going north they found an east-west running path that they took until the region grew mountainous. They went past O'Creagh's Run and finally crossed back into New Hanover just as the sunset began to paint everything a deep shade of violet.

"Make camp?" Arthur offered as they passed a nearby clearing. "As good a place as any from what I've seen."

Jay agreed. The two set up a tent that barely fit them together, but they made due. They started a small fire and sat shoulder to shoulder enjoying each other and the silence. 

They later enjoyed each other in other ways before finally falling asleep.

***

Arthur hadn't felt or sensed Jay leave the safety of their tent before dawn. He didn't feel the kiss she left on his brow just before dipping through the flaps into the outside world, though he may have mumbled her name out of habit. He may have become slightly cognizant of her absence when the space she had occupied against him turned cold. When, half asleep, his hand lazily reached for her in the dark and didn't find her. He stirred after that, startled, but unworried. He was woken quite abruptly, however, as he heard through the fog of his semi-conscious state Jay addressing someone that was not him in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

Arthur could not have snapped to quicker if someone had submerged his body in ice water. The panic that flooded through him worked equally well. He shot up and struggled to clothe himself while simultaneously locating his guns. He swore at his and Jay's combined carelessness. How could either of them have assumed they'd be safe in the woods alone at night?

Another voice, and the heart stopping sound of a gun hammer clicking, froze Arthur in his tracks. 

"Tell yer man to come out now lest he want to watch us have our way with ye."

Arthur's face twitched. The threat directed towards Jay made his blood run equally cold and hot; one part fear, the other, rage.

"He ain’t exactly decent." She said, stalling for time.

"We don't mind none." 

Throwing on his trousers and shoes, Arthur exited the tent. He knew he was large enough to cut an imposing figure, but he felt ridiculously exposed being half naked. Still, he ignored his discomfort. Jay stood at his left, weaponless and looking as angry at the situation as Arthur felt. He moved to grab her and positioned himself just in front of her. He knew she would be angry about this later, but right now he didn't care. One of the three men who'd had a gun pointed at her now shifted it to him.

"Listen here," said the man closest to the remnants of their campfire. He was the cleanest and healthiest looking among them, though that wasn't saying much. "This here is Murfree land. We'll warn ye once, but we catch yous two out here again and yer dead. Understand?"

"It's a free country." Arthur spat. His anger was growing at this intrusion, at their helplessness. He knew if any of these men attacked, it was over. Even if he could take one or two of them down with luck, the third was carrying a rifle. Jay would go for him in a heartbeat, likely getting herself killed in the process. 

They had no good options. Nothing that promised a good outcome. Both of them were entirely at the mercy of these strangers, and for as angry as Arthur was, he was more afraid. He could deal with being injured and while not keen to die, would if it was required. What would happen to Jay however in the wake of either of those events was what had him rooted to the ground. 

Men like this weren't kind to women.

"Ain't nothin' free," the man smiled. He was missing several teeth, and those that still took residence in his mouth were rotted and broken. "Every inch of this land were paid fer in blood, and we bled the most for this here piece so we're fixin' to keep it." He stood, as did his partner. They circled the fire and walked up to them both. Arthur drew Jay closer as they did, silently thanking her for not fighting him. "Just remember that." 

With that the men left, disappearing into the trees like phantoms. The darkness and the deafening silence of the woods swallowed them up as if they'd never been there at all. It left Arthur with a chill.

It took several minutes before either of them felt comfortable enough to even exhale. 

After a few more tense minutes of silence, Arthur crawled back into the tent and started throwing on his shirt. Next he began to angrily tear down camp. Jay tried to calm him during all of this, but Arthur was lost in his own thoughts and while he could hear her, his own mind raged louder than she could compete with. He ignored her until they were mounted and on the road. At which point he made an abrupt turn south.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"We're going back." 

"To camp? But the house?"

"Ain't worth it. C'mon." 

His voice was a sharp bark over his shoulder; eyes hidden beneath the brim of his gambler's hat. He did not — _would not_ — argue this and his tone was intended to make that clear.

It was Jay, however.

"Arthur!"

"Now!"

He could feel the angry pressure of her eyes on his back as he turned to ride on. Arthur had almost never spoken so forcefully to Jay as he had in that moment, but his shame and continued fear was overriding his judgement, and there was no question that he would much prefer Jay angry than dead. She could yell at him later. 

The unmistakable canter of her horse trailed up to him. He refused to meet her eyes as she made it to his side.

"Hey, will you stop for a second?" Her tone was softer than expected as she reached for his arm. He didn't brush her away, but he also didn't meet her gaze. She squeezed his elbow in as much a means to comfort him as to pull him from his thoughts. "You need to calm down. We're not in any danger right now. There's no reason to just walk away from this just because a few hillbillies shook us up."

Arthur's anger was stoked at her words. He knew she’d been shaken almost as much as him at the encounter with the Murfree gang, but her flippant perspective on the matter left him astounded.

"They could have killed you!" He snapped. 

Jay narrowed her eyes, her features suddenly darkening. "They could have killed _us_ ," she corrected. "But they didn't. They gave us a warning. That was all. We've been met with worse, Arthur."

For all his bravado, Arthur couldn't hide his shaking hand as he rubbed at his chin. He sighed, trying to let go of some of his tension. Jay was right. Of _course_ she was right, but that didn't change the fact that he had been wholly and utterly terrified of what would happen to her if something would have happened to him. These Murfree bastards had made their interests clear enough from the start.

Had the two of them been watched since they entered Roanoke Ridge? Had this gang just happened upon them as they slept? If the former, they were undoubtedly still watching now, making sure they were heeding the warning. Arthur’s hackles raised at the thought, causing him to miss much of what Jay was saying until she tapped the toe of her boot against his leg. 

"Damn it Arthur, are you even listening to me? Stop for a second, will ya?" 

When he failed to comply, she swore and pushed her mare ahead, turning sideways so as to block his path.

"Damn it, woman!" Arthur yelled.

Jay glared. 

"Arthur Morgan would you look at yourself right now? Running scared because a few hillbillies got the jump on us? What happened to you? A year ago you'd have hunted those bastards down and shot them all in their sleep."

"What happened to me?" Arthur flared. "What _happened_? Let me tell you what happened, Miss Matthews! I've watched several friends die over the past few months. I saw Davey succumb to his wounds. I watched Jenny bleed to death as Javier held her. We went months without knowing what happened to Sean, and we _still_ don't really know what's happened to Mac. We nearly lost John out in the mountains while we were hiding! Hell _you_ almost got killed on your way here!" Arthur paused to inhale. Meanwhile, Jay watched him carefully, almost guilty. He could see that she knew now where he was going with this. Why he was so afraid. But he was going to say it anyway.

"I couldn't do anything for Jenny, or Davey. We just barely saved Sean, and Mac…" he trailed off. "I can't lose any more people, Jay. I can't."

The sting of tears pricked at his eyes as he looked away. It was the first time Arthur had really acknowledged the pain of all of their losses from Blackwater. He hadn't known how close he was to breaking until this moment. He also hadn't realized just how much Jay's presence had been a source of strength for him until someone had pointed a gun at her, and he never could have believed that the thought of her being gone forever would be so earth shattering to him. As he reflected, he realized that was the truth of it all. It wasn't that he couldn't just lose anyone. He couldn't lose _her_. 

"Arthur..."

He kicked his horse back into motion and wove around Jay. He pretended to scratch at his nose, but was really fighting the itch of his tears. He was still hiding his face beneath the brim of his hat.

"Arthur, wait!" 

A repeat of a few moments ago played out as Jay galloped up next to him again. Her voice was softer this time.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think —"

"S'fine."

"No, it isn't. I...it's easy, you know? To forget how affected you are by these things, Arthur. You're so stoic most of the time. It didn't occur to me that this was all weighing so heavily on you.

"I haven't been back for very long. I honestly forget that Davey, Mac and Jenny aren't just off and away somewhere at times. It's not as real for me as it is for you. I've missed everything, and I can't help but feel like I should have been there. Maybe things would have been different."

Arthur harrumphed. "We could've used you." He said. "Course, if you'd been there you might be dead now too." His voice cracked a little as he spoke those words. He prayed Jay didn't hear. If she did, she had the decency to ignore it.

"Maybe." After a few seconds, she added, "We should still try to see to that house. We need the money, Arthur. You know that. It would be senseless to have been gone all this time for nothing. Dutch will be furious."

Arthur worried his jaw as he considered this. Eventually he agreed, with the stipulation that if they ran into more Murfrees they would leave. Jay agreed and together they set out to their original target. 

Despite her best attempts, Jay could not get Arthur to say much more during their journey. As the sun began to creep upwards he kept alert, eyes combing the woods for any signs of movement. It was all for naught, though, as there was never another sight of the Murfrees their entire time there. 

The robbery went smoothly, if for no other reason than the house was vacant upon their arrival. Afterwards they were able to get to Emerald Ranch just before sundown to pawn off their ill-gotten goods, returning to camp with full coffers just in time for dinner.


	6. Arthur's Journal #1

_If I survive this year, no one will be more amazed than myself. After Blackwater, Colton, and now this Leviticus Cornwall fella, I'm less inclined to believe that Dutch is trying to keep us alive and is instead seeking a method of execution that will serve swifter than the hangman's noose._

_Not everything is terrible, at least. By some unforseen stroke of luck, Jay has returned and I do not think I have been happier to see a face in a very long time. I had not taken the time to ever really consider that I had missed her, possibly because I never expected her to return. Why would she? Beautiful, charismatic woman that she is, any man would be lucky to snatch her up and I was certain one would. I hated to see her go._

_Now she's back and I am ever the fool. Her and Mary both reappearing in the span of one week has left me bewildered. I know Mary and I can never be, but I have refused for years to believe that I ever deserved Jane Matthews and despite my feelings for her, that hasn't changed. Yet here she is again, warming my bed at night, and here I am losing my mind the minute she is on the wrong end of a gun._

_For a brief moment I was genuinely terrified that I would lose her when we were met with what I can only assume to be a gang of inbred hicks out near Roanoke Ridge. After everything that has happened this year, I don't think it would be a loss my heart could endure._

_I grew up with Jay, same as with John, and while I consider John to be my brother, Jay has and always will be something more._

_I'm certain I'm in love with the woman. I always have been. But the perilous road that takes a man down can only lead to pain. What will I do the day she inevitably rides away and takes the best parts of me with her? It took me years to collect myself after Mary. With Eliza it had been different. We had made a mistake together and knew it was best to take responsibility for a life we had created. When they were gone, it made everything worse._

_I have lost too much, and do not wish to gain something back only to lose it again. But I am also certain that I do not have the strength to fight what I feel for her._

_I do not know what there is left in me to break, but the coming days are sure to show me soon enough._


	7. With Friends Like These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dang, two chapters and no comments? Y'all must not like this anymore haha.

A couple days later, Micah returned. 

At first it was nothing to be concerned about. At least that’s what Arthur told himself, even after the man immediately began to smother Jay with undue attention. He reminded himself that Micah often spoke at length with all the girls, usually partaking in some one sided flirting, so this behavior was hardly new. But soon Arthur's fears were confirmed. Micah had taken a great deal of interest in Jay very quickly, and as such, he had spent several days pestering her as she worked around camp, even going so far as to offer to accompany her on jobs while insisting that his talents would be well sufficed to anything she might need. 

Jay, however, was no fool. She had suffered enough men to know when what they said was not what they meant, so as politely as she could she declined his propositions. Unfortunately, Micah was only interpreting Jay's denial as playing hard to get. 

Whenever he was in camp, he kept Jay in sight. His eyes often traveled when she was near, making Arthur’s skin crawl and his anger turn solid in his gut. Too often, when talking with her, his hands would travel to his belt as if attempting to emphasize something. Jay never took the bait, but Arthur could tell her annoyance was steadily increasing.

As time went on it was often all Arthur could do to _not_ punch Micah and tell him to leave Jay alone, but he knew Jay would take to that about as well as a snake bite. She could defend herself, most definitely. Arthur knew that better than most. But it didn’t settle well with him when a man couldn’t take no for an answer. He’d seen it happen too many times with other women, even the girls in the gang. In the past he had expressed to them all several times that if Micah ever became overly aggressive in his pursuits to let him know and he'd take care of it, but none of them ever had. He wasn't sure if that meant Micah was more tempered than Arthur gave him credit for or if the girls simply kept their mouths shut because they feared starting trouble. He hoped it was the former just so that in the end he would have less cause to worry. 

Unfortunately, virtually no questions about Micah's character remained when it ended up coming to blows over the morning campfire one day. 

Arthur hadn't seen the event in question, but would later find that the story went as such: Jay had been talking with Tilly when Micah had bumped into her claiming it was accidental. It might have been, were it not for the fact that there had been ample space around the fire, and both Micah’s hands and his hips had gone places neither had any business going for far too long. As such, Jay had taken matters into her own hands with some well-aimed knee shots and the quick use of a hot cup of coffee.

With the others in camp, Arthur had heard the shouting and came running when it reached its crescendo. When he got there he saw Tilly standing off to the side watching the altercation with an odd mix of amusement and concern. Micah was on the ground, his hands covering his crotch and sneering up at Jay who was casually shaking out the remnants of a tin cup. 

The growing stain on Micah's pants where his hands now clutched told Arthur all he needed to know. His blood boiled; putting two and two together well enough to know what happened here was at best inappropriate, and at worst a serious breach of the gang's code. As he approached Arthur bumped into Hosea who, rigid in his own anger, barely noticed Arthur's presence.

"You see what happened?" Arthur asked in a low tone. Neither's gaze left the scene at the fire in case Micah's retaliation came in the form of a drawn weapon.

"No," Hosea hissed, "but you can bet Micah will spin this around to Dutch soon enough and cause trouble." Arthur nodded as Jay's shouting filled the glade.

"Keep your pecker to yourself next time, Mr. Bell, or I'll do more than dump hot coffee on it, understand? And I can promise you won't like it."

Micah, still on the ground, was heaving and swearing, clearly in a great deal of pain. Sweat pooled at his temples and dripped down the sides of his beet-red face. When he finally noticed the others gathering around the scene, he attempted to appeal to each of them for support. 

"You see what this bitch did?" He screamed. "She's crazy!" He turned to Jay who was still standing over him, smiling. "You're crazy, bitch! I didn't fucking touch you!" 

Arthur was approaching quickly now, picking his way through the others to get closer. Most parted for him instantly as he moved, certain that it was going to turn into a show. Micah, however, was still clueless about his predicament. He reached out towards Arthur as if expecting a helping hand. When none came — when Arthur simply glared down at him, hands on his belt, weight on one foot and a fiery glare bearing down on him — that's when it clicked for Micah.

"I see," he spat and sneered, withdrawing his hand slowly. "Didn't realize she was yours, Arthur. My apologies!"

Had Arthur seen it coming, he probably still would not have stopped Jay from ramming the toe of her boot into Micah's ribs.

"I ain't no one's," she hissed. Micah yelped. "Someone don't want to be touched, you'd do well to listen, Mr. Bell." With that Jay stormed away. No one opted to assist Micah up off the ground after, instead finding themselves occupied almost immediately anywhere else that wasn’t directly in his vicinity. Hosea, meanwhile, trudged off to Dutch's tent and closed the flaps, undoubtedly prepping to give the man an earful concerning Micah's behavior. 

When Arthur sought Jay out afterwards, he found her near the hill's edge deep in conversation with the other women. They were all nodding furiously about something, commiserating on things Arthur presumed to not be his business. He decided not to interrupt and instead made sure that whatever work he did that day kept Micah in plain sight. It wasn't until evening came and the sun fell when Arthur was able to talk to her.

"It's nothing to worry about," she assured him as they ate off to the side of the main thoroughfare. "He got the point." Arthur frowned. His eyes grazed the camp for Micah, but he couldn't find the man anywhere. It had been like that all evening and it worried him. He knew the man was nursing his wounds, those to his pride more than those done to his body. He also knew Micah was one to hold a grudge. Arthur could already feel the air thickening with tension, even if it was just his own. That Jay wasn't concerned only made him more worried. She had no idea what Micah might be willing to do when no one was around. The fear of it sat like a stone in Arthur’s gut.

"I wouldn't be so sure," He argued, twisting his spoon idly between his fingers as he spoke. "Just be careful. I don't trust that man, and he can go off like a lit fuse."

Jay raised an eyebrow at him and quipped, "Pot, meet kettle."

"Not like that."

"I know. I'm teasing. You worry too much, Arthur."

"Sometimes I think I'm the only one who does, and then after I get done hollering, something happens and y'all are still surprised."

Jay watched Arthur pensively for a moment. Her eyes danced back and forth across his face. A small trace of firelight reflected in their depths.

"Has he tried anything with the other women?"

"I caught him going real hard on trying to sweet talk Abigail a few times."

"John must have loved that."

"John didn't do anything," Arthur huffed angrily. "You'd think he would have."

"Not all men are like you, Arthur." He tried not to smile as the compliment flared hot coals in his chest. "Do you think he's just trying to start trouble?"

"Couldn't say. Might be. I know he talked about being with Jenny once. He said some things that neither Lenny nor Javier liked too much."

Jay hissed through her teeth. It had been no secret that Javier and Jenny had been close, and that Lenny had been sweet on her almost since he'd joined the gang. 

"You think he did?"

Arthur shrugged again. "Don't much matter if he did so long as Jenny was willing. Don't see the point of talking about it after unless you wanna rile folks up, though."

The sneer on Jay's face was prevalent as she looked out among the others in camp.

"Can't imagine anyone wanting that. He looks like a bloodhound with a mustache. All slack-jawed and droopy-eyed. He smells, too."

Arthur spooned through his stew, his appetite gone now. Jay's hand on his forearm pulled him out of his thoughts. 

"You okay?"

He nodded, but his gaze was still very much planted in his food. 

"Just...if he tries something again, tell me, will you? With you or any of the girls. I told them once to come to me but I worry they think it'll cause trouble."

"Well, it would cause trouble, Arthur."

He glanced up to see Jay staring at him intently. Jay shook her head to his unasked question. "I don't think you see it, Arthur, but there _is_ a hierarchy here. How much thought do you think is afforded to a bunch of women who are already known for selling their bodies? If a man decides he wants to touch them, isn't that their job to let him?"

Arthur's back straightened. 

"Only if they want it." He argued, but Jay held up a hand to stop him from saying more. 

"Not every man sees it that way, Arthur. And a lot of the men here don't see it that way either. Women like that are for the taking. Hell, sometimes women don't have to be whores for them to think we're all just here for them and their peckers."

Arthur blinked a few times as he took this all in. Jay smiled at him, a little sad.

"I know you think you've seen all the ugly this world has to offer, Arthur. I know you've seen a lot of it to be sure. But you ain't seen it all. You're blind to a lot of things that go on around you. It ain’t your fault, that's just how it is.

"It's worth saying that I know the girls all trust you. They know you won't do anything, but they know if they say anything to you it'll get back around and be trouble for them whether you mean it to be or not. Sometimes it's just safer to be quiet, even if that ain’t right."

Arthur took one long inhale to calm himself. He wasn't mad at Jay, but he was mad that she was right. He'd thought the gang was always a _mostly_ safe collection of people. Arthur genuinely liked all of the women and wanted them to be happy, but Jay's words were a harsh truth he had to accept even if he didn't want to. 

She looked at him with genuine sadness. Leaning over, she and took his hand, spoon and all. "Oh, Arthur. You're a good man, but you can't change all the world's problems."

Arthur sighed again, nodding his head in forlorn acquiescence. Jay leaned into him, her head rested on his shoulder. 

"You really are a good man, Arthur. Despite everything you tell yourself."

Arthur laughed somewhat nervously.

"What do I tell myself?"

Jay lifted her head and cast him a furtive glance. "That you're mean. That you're a rotten, no-good scoundrel. Violent. Unkind." Arthur was quiet as Jay listed off more of the negative traits that he had inarguably attributed to himself over the years. When she was done, he shook his head.

"See you're definitely wrong about one thing. I _am_ ugly."

"Arthur. Morgan."

Jay stood up and threw her plate to the ground. She removed his from his hands and set it down with a bit more ceremony before she straddled his lap. Arthur already felt himself responding to the weight of her against him.

"It's true you are _many_ things. But you are _not_ ugly."

Arthur smiled despite himself. He was incredibly grateful that they had sat away from the others so that he could pull Jay closer into himself. 

"Oh I'm afraid you're wrong there Miss Matthews. I'm ugly as sin."

"You," she said, and leaned in to kiss his nose, "are a stunning specimen of a man." She kissed just above his upper lip next. Then the corner of his mouth. Then she took his bottom lip in her teeth and tugged it playfully. "The likes of which I have never seen or am likely to again." 

Her kisses resumed, traveling to his chin and then his throat. Arthur couldn't help but moan a little into her shoulder as she nipped at the tender flesh just above his collarbone. She heard him and he could feel the smile on her face before he saw it. 

Her lips then traced up his neck to the dip just below his left earlobe and then ended on his lips. The trail left a tingling sensation all along his skin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and closed what little space existed between them as she laid claim to every inch of his exposed flesh

"You know I may need some more reminding later," he joked. Jay smiled. She kissed him again. 

"I can tell you more now if you're done eating." Her smile was wicked, and Arthur was pretty sure the fire in his gut wasn't going to burn out anytime soon. He stood up, lifting her as he did, and went back to his tent. 

Arthur woke the next morning to an empty bed. It wasn't abnormal in the strictest of senses, but usually Jay would announce her departure before leaving by kissing him good morning. That today was different left Arthur feeling uneasy, though he wasn't sure if that had anything to do with yesterday's events, or that he had just been hoping for a warmer awakening before the start of his day.

Dressed and as washed as he could be, Arthur stepped from his tent to immediately be met with Dutch and Hosea, apparently both on their way to wake him up.

"Where's the fire, fellers?" He asked bemused, but the expression on each of their faces told Arthur that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

"Son, you need to talk to Jane."

Arthur’s stomach dropped. Had she left, then? 

He looked to Hosea for any kind of clue as to what might be going on, but Hosea was only glaring at Dutch who was carefully avoiding his gaze.

"What's goin' on?"

"Her and Micah have been sniping at each other all day. They just had another row and now she's ridden out of here in a huff."

Arthur swore. 

"I'm finding it a little unfair that you're pinning this solely on Jane, Dutch. You know damn well what Micah did yesterday. He's antagonizing her."

"I _know_ that, Hosea, but I can only handle so much here!"

"Then you handle Micah," Hosea spat. "The man is a loose cannon."

"I. _Will_." Dutch hissed in a tone that indicated he was getting tired of being questioned, something that was becoming more and more prevalent in the last few months. Arthur didn’t like it, but he wrote it off as mere stress. "In the meantime, Arthur, please find Miss Matthews and bring her back. The last thing I need is that woman causing trouble with the price on her head."

"Jane isn't an idiot, Dutch," Hosea spat in an uncharacteristic show both of anger towards his friend and defense of his granddaughter. "She won't start trouble just because she's mad."

Arthur felt that that wasn't entirely true but decided to not correct Hosea so as to not add more pressure to an already fragile situation.

"No, but if she's recognized, she'll be arrested and carted off to Sisika. If she's lucky."

Arthur laughed. "Pretty sure we could bust her out before then."

Something happened then, at that moment, that put into motion a serious sense of doubt in Arthur. 

Neither Dutch nor Hosea responded in the affirmative when he spoke those words. The latter seemed to be waiting, but the former ignored the statement entirely. Yet in the silence Arthur thought he sensed something. Hesitation. Regret. It was almost as if what he had proposed was too ridiculous a notion to consider, lest even acknowledge. That if Jay were caught, there wasn't going to be another rescue like there had been for Sean. Dutch might suggest they cut their losses. 

Arthur’s brow furrowed, but the silence wasn't left hanging for long. Dutch slapped a large hand on Arthur's shoulder and plastered on his famous showman smile. "Bring her home, son." He repeated before sauntering off. 

"What was that about?" Arthur asked as both he and Hosea watched Dutch retreat to his tent. 

"Hell if I know anymore, Arthur." With that, Hosea walked away too, nearly stumbling into John as he did so. 

Sighing, Arthur started for his gunbelt and bandolier when John sidled up to him. 

"You going after Jay?" He asked in his raspy tone.

"Apparently. Why?"

He hadn't met John's eyes as he sorted his supplies, but the silence eventually drew the rest of his attention. John had a folded up piece of paper in his hand, and he was holding it out for Arthur to take.

"What's this?"

"Read it."

He didn't have to. Not all of it, anyway. The portrait caught his attention immediately. As did the word WANTED right above it. Almost as much as the cash reward listed below it, and below that the conditions of DEAD OR ALIVE.

Jay was staring straight back at him. Her expression a little meaner than usual, but it was nevertheless her.

Arthur’s blood went cold.

"Where'd you find this?" He hissed, leaning into John so they couldn't be overheard. 

"There was a bounty board just outside of Fort Wallace."

"Shit!"

Arthur folded the poster and stuck it in his satchel, storming towards the horses and dragging John with him.

"You're gonna help me find her!" 

"Ow! — let go! Yeah I'll help just let me go, Jesus!"

"Quit complaining!"

John wrestled himself out of Arthur’s grasp and saddled up. Together they both rode out up and towards Valentine, which seemed the most likely place to start.

Once they cleared the camp, Arthur started asking questions about what had happened earlier in the day while he had still been asleep. 

John didn't have much to give him, though, as he had only just gotten into camp that morning. Apparently Micah had approached Jay with an offer to let bygones be bygones, but she wasn't having it. From there some choice words had been exchanged before Bill and Charles had to intervene, and Dutch had more or less only reprimanded Jane for how the whole thing went down. Furious, she'd left in a rage an hour before Arthur had woke up, which meant she'd had enough time to get just about anywhere ahead of them. 

Arthur considered heading back to camp to enlist Charles help when they began to see Valentine in the distance.

"Let's just hope we can clean this up quickly." Arthur huffed.

"Yeah," John agreed. "Let's hope." But there was something in his voice that Arthur didn't like, and all at once he was beginning to feel that things might be falling apart.


	8. WANTED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and Happy New Year to everyone! If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope this chapter continues to entertain you as thoroughly as the previous ones did. 
> 
> Leave likes and comments if you please! I enjoy hearing from you, and frankly, the validation is more than a little encouraging, haha!

Arthur considered it a good sign that all was quiet when he and John made their way into Valentine. Quiet being what it was for the burgeoning mountain town: the sound (and stench) of cattle, the ringing of construction, and the general hum of people milling about were commonplace enough. Church bells sounded as callers advertised wares and goods. Dogs barked. Men shouted back and forth. Carriages creaked on rocking wheels that dipped in and out of muddy paths. All things normal. What he’d feared to find was blissfully absent, thankfully. No gun fire. No shouting. No law. 

When they rounded the bend to the main road between the church and the stables, his worries eased a great deal more at seeing Jay's mare just outside of the saloon. The blue roan seemed perfectly at ease, head deep in a water trough, drinking without a care in the world. 

Aside from its flank being slightly mud speckled it appeared in fine shape. Arthur took that to mean that its rider was too. Comforted knowing that she was well, Arthur allowed himself the luxury of his worry ebbing into frustration as he kept his eyes open for any sign of anything that looked like a bounty hunter or lawman. 

He and John both dismounted and tied their horses to either side of Jay's and entered. The place was deserted save for one particularly drunk huntsman and, of course, the woman they were looking for slouched heavily at the bar nursing a shot glass. Her face lifted at their entrance, but upon seeing them she rolled her eyes and went back to drinking. Arthur huffed and sauntered over to her. John stayed close at his heels. 

The place reeked of sour whisky, stale piss, and days old sex. It all seemed to exist in a realm exclusively outside of Valentine, especially since the light failed to reach more than halfway into the building. The wooden beams and ceiling were littered with cobwebs. Bullet holes from shootouts past were still visible in some of the walls, and Arthur felt as much as heard the raised floor sag under his weight as he walked. No doubt an effect of the humidity that had accosted the region over the past few weeks.

John eyed the huntsman as they approached to get a feel for him, and even Arthur could smell him standing this far. He was dressed head to toe in furs, was doubled over onto his table and snoring loudly. Given his general size and odor, it would have been forgivable to mistake the man for a bear. Fortunately, he seemed to be too inebriated to pose any threat.

"You created quite the raucous today." Arthur smiled as he said it, though he knew both his voice and his expression were strained. Jay saw it too. She paid it little mind.

"I see you're taking Dutch's side in this." She sneered, then looked pointedly at John. "That your stance too?"

"I don't know nothing." 

John raised his hands in defense as he spoke, looking taken aback by the accusation. Jay only laughed, though it was more bitter than humored.

"I guess some things never change."

The two men looked at each other, both of them flanking Jay at the bar. Almost subconsciously they had closed in around her in the hopes of shielding her from prying eyes. The act also added a sense of intimidation. If she tried to run, or fight, she would be outnumbered and out-muscled. They’d take her back by force if they had to. Arthur hoped it didn’t come to that.

"Look," He wasn't in the mood for her antics right now. His ears were ringing and an itch was forming at the base of his skull, which was always a sign that trouble was on its way. "We can discuss this back at camp, but right now we need to get you out of here."

"You saw the posters, I take it."

Arthur blinked. He and John again exchanged another bewildered look over her shoulders.

"You knew?" John asked, beating Arthur to the question.

"Oh, yeah." She laughed. "Shaw caught up with me quicker than I expected. I'd hoped I'd have more time, but…" Jay trailed off. Her face fell and her gaze dropped to the bottom of her glass with it. "Guess it was bound to happen eventually. What was the reward?"

Arthur blinked again and felt his jaw drop ever so slightly. He was stunned at her nonchalant demeanor. 

"I didn't see," he lied. "But it did say 'Dead or Alive.'"

Jay's brow lifted in surprise, but she said nothing. Her complexion might have paled a little, though in the dank lighting Arthur couldn't be certain. 

"Look," John piped up. "We've been in bigger scrapes. It's not that big of a deal."

"I'm not so sure we have, John." 

She downed another swig of whiskey before pushing the glass away. It hit the edge of the bar with a muted clink, then teetered before finally righting itself. "I don't know about you two, but there's a heaviness hanging on all of this that I've never felt before. We're running out of country. Places to hide. Eventually there'll be nothing left and nowhere to go. And the people we're robbing? They're powerful. Money holds sway more than honor ever did, and we've never had much of either."

Arthur let a stream of air out through his nose. He motioned to John, then leaned against the bar, letting his shoulder touch Jay's in a quiet, intimate gesture. Her words were the same Hosea had spoken not long before Jay had come back. He remembered then, with equal parts amusement and exasperation, that they were more alike than Arthur would ever say to either of their faces, and he hated to think that they were both right. 

Still, whatever the problem, it wasn't their most pressing issue at hand. He needed to get Jay back to camp before someone spotted her. They were already pushing their luck lingering here.

"You're not wrong," Arthur said in a low tone. "But now isn't the time. I've already been recognized here once. We can't afford for it to happen again. Come back, Jay, and we can sort this out."

Anger snapped back into her almost immediately.

"Sort _what_ , exactly? The fact that Micah is a sack of shit? The fact that Dutch seems unusually biased towards his opinions and swayed all too easily by his words?" She shook her head. "A year ago Micah would have been thrown out for behavior like this! Now instead I'm to blame for him acting like an animal. He's got Dutch's ear the way you and Hosea used to. 

"Something ain’t right, Arthur, and I know you feel it. Both of you do."

John laughed. "Leave it to little sister. Back less than a week and already pointing out all the things we've done wrong."

"Kiss my ass, Marston," Jay spat, but a slight smile kindled in her eyes despite her distress. "Besides, I'm older than you."

Arthur’s eyes darted around the saloon as Jay and John argued. Maybe it was his paranoia, but he could swear three men who had just entered and crowded around a nearby poker table were watching them. There seemed to be a discussion happening amongst their ranks. Each of them, Arthur noticed, was armed. He nudged Jay.

"Yeah I see 'em," she whispered, her face not moving from John as if they were still engaged in conversation. "They're bounty hunters."

Arthur felt his gut drop out from under him. 

"How do you know?"

"See the one on the left? With the scar?"

He glanced over.

"Yeah?"

"I gave it to him."

"Christ, woman."

Slowly, methodically, Jay pushed away from the bar and from what little security Arthur's large frame allowed her. He turned to look at her. 

A smile was growing on her face. Genuine. Full of mirth and mischief.

"You act like this isn't the life we chose, Arthur.” She said with that smile. “All three of us know how this will eventually end. Might as well stare it down. It's fate." He watched as her hands slowly moved to the two pistols on her belt. From the corner of his eye, one of the men near the tables started.

Before Arthur could say or do anything to stop her, she opened fire.

***

God be damned, Arthur thought as he, Jay and John fled Valentine in a flurry of panic and gun smoke. God damnit. If he didn't love that woman so much, he might have considered killing her. 

Luckily they'd gotten out ahead of the Sheriff who had apparently been stumbling out of an upper room of the "hotel" across the street at the first sound of gunfire and had therefore not caught sight of them. But the saloon owner would no doubt be able to identify them if seen again. Once again Valentine was going to be off limits for a good long while.

"Why?!" Arthur yelled at her over the gallop of their horses and the screaming wind. "Why didn't you just keep your head down?! We could have left quietly! Taken them out somewhere away from town and ditched the bodies!"

"It won't matter!" Jay shouted back at him over her shoulder. "If they found me, others will too! Shaw must have upped the bounty."

"Upped it?! What was it before!?"

"A thousand!" She paused. "Give or take."

That was the last straw. Arthur was already frustrated with Jay's actions in Valentine. Sure, she could fly off the handle on occasion. No different than him. But this was uncharacteristic for her. 

He reached forward and grabbed the reins of her horse and jerked it to a stop along with his own. John had to swerve around them to avoid colliding head on. Each of the horses screamed in a conjoined protest.

"The _hell_ is wrong with you?" Arthur hissed. "This ain't like you! What's going on?"

Jay reached over and snatched the reins back almost instantly. 

"What does it matter?" She shot back. Teeth bared. "You could have left well enough alone, you know that?"

"You think we're just going to let you get snatched to end up on the gallows? The hell you take us for?"

"Yeah. What's gotten into you?" John echoed. "You think getting caught will get the law off of us?"

Jay didn't meet either of their gazes. Instead, she kicked the mare so it sidestepped away and further out of his reach. Her glare matched Arthur’s own as she did.

"I know you ain't that stupid, Jay. Tell me that ain't what you were doing."

"I ain't that stupid!" She spat, then repeated her initial question: "Why can't y'all just leave well enough alone?"

"BECAUSE SOMEONE WANTS YOU DEAD!" Arthur yelled. "You ain't told us anything 'cept this Shaw guy has folks tracking you down! Hell! One of 'em already had his fun cutting you up! What're the next ones gonna do to you? You think of that?"

Arthur could see John looking back and forth between both of them. "Wait, what happened? Some of them found you already?"

Jay rounded to glare at Arthur. 

If the situation wasn't so perilous he might have felt guilty for having loosed that information so freely. Now, though, he was angry and more than a little scared. Jay hadn't alluded to the severity of her situation, but based on her reaction back in Valentine, she didn't seem much more aware of it than he or John was. That she suspected her bounty amount had changed was also worrisome, but there was little more they could do right now.

"You seem to have forgotten someone wants all of us dead," Jay chided. "Which is why you shouldn't have come."

"We're going back to camp!" Arthur said in a tone that brooked no argument. He was furious right now and had no intention to acknowledge Jay's statement no matter how truthful it was. "We'll sort it from there. Talk to Dutch. See what he wants to do."

Jay made a noise in the back of her throat that Arthur chose to ignore. Suddenly, John spoke up.

"How much did the bounty poster say?"

Arthur glanced at him. John, who still looked as though he was trying to piece this all together. Too dumb to be properly worried but forward-thinking enough to solve the problem at hand. Good ol’ John Marston could still be good for some things after all.

Leaning over into his saddle, Arthur pulled the poster out of his satchel and looked it over again. Felt himself get queasy as Jay snatched it out of his hands. She, in turn, let out a whistle, then a laugh, and then swore.

"Seven thousand." 

It was more than the asking amount Arthur had on his own head. 

John practically choked. "Christ, Jay, what did you do?"

As her eyes danced over the poster, the color drained from her face. It was clear she had no intention of answering John's question. Instead, she crumbled it up and tossed it to the ground.

"C'mon," she said. Her voice was almost a whisper. "Let's get back."

***

They rode back to Horseshoe Overlook in silence which suited Arthur just fine. He was still fuming even as he dismounted, leaving the others to go look for either Dutch or Hosea. He found the latter sitting on a fallen tree trunk at the edge of the clearing, his nose deep in one of Strauss’s record keeping books with a pipe held between his teeth. He seemed content until seeing Arthur storming up with Jay in his shadow.

"Ah, Jane! Arthur you found her. Again!"

"We got a problem." Arthur barked, ignoring Hosea’s words. "Where's Dutch?"

The old man’s brow knit in confusion as he looked from his adopted son to his granddaughter and back again. "Reading, I think. What happened?"

Arthur rounded on Jay. He felt as though his eyes were about to bug out if his head as every muscle in his face tightened. Even here in camp he could feel his panic mounting, as well as his anger. As much as he tried to hide it, he knew he was failing miserably. Maybe it was for the best. When Arthur was angry, folks listened. Eventually. 

"You!” He snarled. “Stay here! And you tell him what happened! I'm gonna find Dutch and we're going to _sort this out_."

Jay clearly wanted to argue but seemed to think better of it. At that, he left the Matthews' to their conversation and went in search of Dutch. 

Everyone in camp ducked out of his path as he moved. No one met Arthur’s eyes, and no one said a word. Normally when tension flared amongst their ranks, Arthur was the one who calmed people down. But every last member of the Van der Linde gang knew that when Arthur was mad, you stayed out of his way lest you become the target of his rage. No doubt everyone had heard him shouting, both at Hosea and at Jay, who were two of the three least likely recipients of that anger at any given point in time. If they weren't spared, no one else at camp would be either. Arthur moved through them like Moses through the Red Sea, with all the power and authority to match it.

Eventually he found the camp patriarch, sitting at the edge of a copse of trees just near one of the entryways to the glade where the main campsite was set up. He must have only just gotten there as Arthur didn’t remember seeing him when they rode in. He pressed up to the man now, his tromping feet making enough noise to announce his approach.

"Where's the fire, son?" Dutch laughed. He seemed to think it was amusing to mirror Arthur's question from earlier that morning, but something in his face brought Dutch to a halt. "What happened? Did you find Jane?"

"Oh I found her all right. And a whole lot of trouble."

Dutch's own face became stern. He dragged himself to his feet. His nicely pressed pants were covered with forest refuse and dirt which Dutch seemed to fail to notice.

"What happened?"

"We need to talk."

"Where is she?"

Arthur led Dutch over to where Hosea and Jay were still talking. Sweat was beading on Hosea's upper lip. A clear indicator of his stress. When Dutch and Arthur joined, he turned to ramble at them.

"This is bad, Dutch. Really bad."

"What is happening?"

"Tell him, Jane. Tell him what you told me."

She sighed. Clearly exasperated that for a third time today she had to go over this.

"Logan Shaw, the man I tried to rob, has bounty hunters coming after me."

"We knew that, Jane."

"The bounty recently increased."

Dutch blinked. "Okay?"

"By a lot."

A pause. Jay seemed to be waiting for something. A prompt. A miracle, maybe. 

"Miss Matthews," Dutch drew his words out slowly, a sign that his patience was being heavily tested. "The suspense may literally be killing me. Please — "

"By _six thousand dollars!_ " Arthur finally cut in. 

Dutch blinked again as his gaze jumped from Jay to Arthur and back again. He seemed to be having trouble taking this in.

"So, what is it at currently?"

Jay sighed. Her gaze dropped to her feet like a child in trouble. "Seven."

"A seven thousand dollar bounty on your head?" Dutch inhaled sharply. Then exhaled. "Miss Matthews. What in the ever living hell did you _do?_ "

"I don't know." She whispered. Her voice broke slightly when she said it. Arthur felt his frustration and anger fade, if only faintly, as it did. Guilt began to slip into the cracks of his thoughts as he realized that this was undoubtedly a shock for her too. "Not regarding this, at least. I don't know why it would have gone so high."

Silence stretched for several seconds and Dutch worked through this alarming information. Arthur, watching Jay intently and worried that she was possibly struggling to hold it together, decided to not add the fact that they'd also fled a shootout in Valentine less than an hour ago. A shootout she had started. 

Jay in turn refused to meet his gaze as Dutch paced the length of the clearing and Hosea tapped his foot nervously. Her own was twisting into the ground as she waited for the Van der Linde leaders to come up with something. Arthur sighed, arms crossed, staring out over New Hanover. His mind was a winding, distant scream. Part of him wanted to apologize for how he had spoken with her, but another part of him wanted to throttle her. She knew the danger she was in. She knew the risk she had posed to the gang by behaving how she did. The attention she’d drawn to herself had made it impossible for her to return to Valentine. Him and John too. It was one of the last things he needed right now.

“For starters,” Dutch said, his voice cutting through the din of Arthur’s thoughts. “You’re restricted to the camp, Miss Matthews, until we can figure out what to do with this information.”

“But I —”

Dutch raised a hand, signifying that he wasn’t done. 

“Your bounty, Miss Matthews, makes you a tremendous risk right now. Anyone who recognizes you will be heavily inclined to capture you, or trail you, which could lead them back here to us. Until such a time as we can find it in our ability to leave this place, you’re not to set foot out of camp. Is that understood?”

Jay blinked. A deep red bloomed in her cheeks. Whether it was from rage or shame, Arthur couldn't tell. She wasn’t accustomed to being told what to do, not like this. Not even by Dutch. She started to argue again, but Arthur cut her off. 

“He’s right, Jay. Just for now, okay? We need to do everything we can to make sure everyone stays safe.”

She glowered at him. Then at Dutch. When no one spoke in her defense, she walked away. Not angry. Not defeated. Just walked away, as if nothing unusual had just taken place here. 

Arthur watched her go and debated on whether or not he should follow when Hosea cut into his thoughts as if he'd read them himself.

"I wouldn't, Arthur. Just let her be mad for a spell. She'll come around."

Arthur inhaled, then exhaled loudly. With it went more of his anger.

"I just wish I knew what was going on," he lamented. "Things keep getting worse all the time."

"I know, son. I know."

He waited, hopeful that Hosea would say something more. The old man's words were often a comfort to Arthur when he felt the water closing over his head, but this time, nothing came. They both just watched as Jay disappeared into her tent. Dutch, likewise, left their company to his own tent, sighing heavily and proclaiming something about the futility of trying to understand a woman's mind.

"I don't suppose Micah was reprimanded in the time we were away?"

Hosea sighed. "No." One word said more than enough.


End file.
